Young Volcanoes
by texmexcombo
Summary: Sequel to "Light 'Em Up". Following a lengthy injury lay-off in the Sunshine State to recoup both physically and emotionally, Juliette Madden finally faces up to the loose ends she left behind.
1. taking my time on my ride

Guys! We're back! Some of you asked for a roundabout upload date and I promised July, so here I am delivering. If you're new here, you should really go read the first part of this. You'll be pretty confused if you don't.

This is a pretty long one to start us off but it's also _mostly_ a fun one before the drama kicks in next chapter. I hope you guys are still with me and eager to continue along with these characters. Let's get to it.

* * *

 **Wednesday, December 9, 2015  
Orlando, Florida**

"So, what time's your flight?"

"What flight?"

"Your flight to Los Angeles."

Jet sighed loudly. "Dude, come on."

"What? We totally agreed you were coming out to see me."

"No, we didn't. You nagged about it and I told you I'd never get it cleared with the office. Speaking of, I really did only see you _four days ago._ "

"So? You don't need to clear it with the office, just ask Hunter, he'll say yes. He's like your dad, right?"

"He is not my dad."

"He kinda is. He called you four times in Fort Lauderdale to see if you were on your way home yet."

"He does that purely because he wants me to get fit, not drunk."

"You weren't even drinking! Besides, you're fit already."

"He doesn't need to know that."

Adam's laughter on the other end of the line was incredibly loud in Jet's ear. "Are you seriously still pulling that with him? And he hasn't just dragged your ass back yet?"

"He trusts my word. Even when I'm lying through my teeth to him."

"I'll call him and tell him the truth if you don't agree to this."

"Do you even have his number?"

"…No. But I know plenty of people that do. Don't make me do this, Juliette."

"You're an ass."

"That is true. I'm also your friend who is asking you to come out here and have a good time. Wasn't that the point, huh? Grow as a person, rebuild bridges, salvage old friendships?"

"I've done that. I have cultivated many a friendship through Twitter."

"Seeing the guys in person is way better than Twitter. Julieeeeette."

He knew exactly the pleading tone that got to her. She could practically see him pouting and forcing his eyes desperately wide. "Ugh, fine. I will _ask_. There's no guarantee they'll say yes."

"Awesome! Call me when you know what time your flight lands, I'll come pick you up."

"I just said no guarantees!"

"Okay, great, see you Friday! Love ya!"

Jet sighed and shook her head as she hung up. Her friends were impossible.

* * *

 **Friday, December 11, 2015  
Los Angeles, California**

It ended up being incredibly easy to get Hunter to agree to her trip. She was still just being classed a Performance Center guest trainer – much to Hunter's continued frustration – and the vast majority of the roster had travelled overseas for the run of shows in the UK so she wasn't serving much purpose. Jet had begged out of that on the lie that she was worried such a long transatlantic flight would wreak havoc on her head. Hunter hadn't sounded very convinced but he relented and let her stay in Florida, just as he had when she'd insisted she couldn't go on the main roster's tour of Europe in November either. He was being remarkably patient for a man who had already been given the green light from the medical staff. Hunter's only condition where the trip to California was concerned was that she had to behave herself and she absolutely could not be seen on any PWG material. Jet agreed readily and immediately went about booking herself a flight to Los Angeles.

"Hey!"

Initially all Jet could see was an arm in the air waving at her through the crowd of people in LAX. Within a few moments, the horde of bodies moved enough to reveal the grinning face of Adam Cole.

Jet set her suitcase up beside her leg, smiling back at him. "Well, I'm here. You better show me a damn good weekend."

"That's a promise."

Adam leaned in but Jet quickly held up her hand. "You come at me with that damn tobacco mouth and you'll be in trouble."

He laughed, knowing how much his tobacco chewing habit annoyed her. He bypassed the cheek kiss he was going for, drawing her up in a tight enough hug to lift her from the floor instead. It was an overzealous greeting since they had only parted ways the week before. He had been in Florida for a ROH house show leading up to Final Battle, and had called Jet to let her know. Ever since she'd re-settled in the Sunshine State she had made much more of an effort to reconnect with the people she'd been closest to on the indies. Adam was one of the easiest, since they'd seen each other so recently in that bar in Reading. She figured she actually owed him a thank you; despite his douchey tactics and smug attitude, he had been the one to first force her to evaluate what was going on in her life. If not for him sticking his nose in, she could have still been mired in that mess. They talked over FaceTime pretty often after that initial conversation. She called after almost all of his shows, checking in to make sure he hadn't actually died, and he called whenever he didn't feel like he was actually dying. It was one of her favourite parts of not being on the road; she finally had enough time to catch up with people she'd missed.

When Adam let her know that he'd be in Fort Lauderdale, she immediately began the three-hour drive from Orlando. Adam was right though, Hunter really did check in more often than someone who didn't have a fatherly role in her life might. The whole night in Fort Lauderdale was spent catching up with some people she hadn't seen in years and loudly lamenting to a very amused Alex Shelley that she missed his peroxide fauxhawk. The Detroiter really thought she was drunk for a while until Adam insisted that she had been strictly abstaining from alcohol to aid her recovery from the skull fracture. Adam spent most of the evening trying to convince her to fly out for PWG's All Star Weekend and now that he'd succeeded, he was feeling pretty proud of himself.

"C'mon," he encouraged, nodding her toward the exit. "I'm parked in the pick-up zone, I don't wanna get a ticket."

Adam led her out to where he'd left the car, opening the door for her. "Wow, you're not usually this much of a gentleman."

"Well, I figure that if I don't treat you nice, you won't come out to see me again."

"You know I won't always have all this free time, right? I'm gonna have to go back to work at some point."

Adam chuckled, glancing over at her as he pulled out. "You're doing a pretty good job of avoiding it so far. Is Triple H buying that you're still hurt?"

"No, he knows. The doctors gave him the green light in terms of the fracture but I told him I'm still having those dizzy spells," Jet shrugged. "He probably knows I'm lying. I'll give him some better excuses eventually."

"You're allowed to quit."

"I don't want to quit," she replied quickly. Nothing was further from her mind. "I just don't want to head back yet. I love NXT. I love being in one place for longer than two days. I love having time to do stuff like this. I mean, realistically, how often will I actually be able to see you when I go back on the road?"

"I could come see you," Adam pointed out. "You can put me up in that big house of yours. While I'm honoured that you're pretending our hang outs factor into your career decisions, you can admit the truth."

Jet looked over at him, leaning against the door as her eyebrows rose. "And what truth is that?"

"That you're scared," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Pfft."

He grinned and shook his head. Without taking his eyes off the road, he reached over to grab her left hand and wave her now naked ring finger in her face. "Need I remind you that I'm always right?"

"You're an ass, you know that? You're so proud of being the catalyst in the dissolution of my marriage."

"Millions of women would be honoured to have me ruin their marriages."

Jet would have punched him in the shoulder if he wasn't driving. "Dude, come on."

"What, I'm not allowed to joke about it yet? You've been back in Florida three months already; that's nearly as long as your actual marriage."

That did earn him a punch. Adam laughed loudly, using his left hand to rub at the joint. "Jeez, lady, we could crash. You don't need to beat me up to deflect from your fear issues."

Jet groaned. Sure, she'd missed him but that didn't make it any less annoying when he got into the mood to insistently pester her. "Yeah, so what if I'm afraid? Everything's simpler and happier in Florida. Besides, maybe I just don't want to get back in the ring yet."

Adam scrunched his eyes and nose. "You seriously haven't had any practice matches yet?"

"Not really. I've been running the ropes for a while and helping the rookies but I haven't taken a bump in four months. I want to get back in the groove, I really do, but that old feeling of invincibility just isn't there anymore. I was always pretty lucky with injuries, y'know? Besides the broken arm Chuck gave me and a few muscle problems here and there, I've never really had anything big. Nothing that needed extended time off, anyway. One wrong knock and I could kill myself."

"But you won't. You're a great worker."

"I used to be. I'm rusty now, who the hell knows what I'm like?"

"You gotta get back on the saddle. I felt the same way after my surgery but, once I'd taken that first bump, everything was fine. You've just gotta get that first one out of the way."

Jet knew that. Of course she did. It was exactly the same thing she'd heard from Fergal, Sami, coach, Sara, AJ, _everyone_ for weeks now. They'd all tried coaxing her into just taking a back bump, a simple move that would remind her that she was perfectly capable of working safely. She just couldn't get over that hurdle in her mind. She'd even tried talking herself into it. She'd given herself many a pep talk, reminding herself that the only reason she had gotten hurt in the first was because her mind wasn't focused. She was much clearer-headed now, nothing hanging over her.

Nothing but her fear of the ring, anyway.

"I'll get there. I'm just trying to live a peaceful life, leave me alone."

"Sorry, Gandhi."

"You think you're so damn funny, don't you?"

"Yup."

* * *

 **Saturday, December 12, 2015  
PWG All Star Weekend 11 – Night Two  
American Legion Post #308 – Reseda, California**

"This place hasn't changed a damn bit."

A wave of nostalgia flooded over Jet as she stepped into the room that housed the ring. It was still early in the day, before any of the wrestlers would be setting out their merch, so it gave her time to reacquaint herself with the building. Things hadn't been so easy back when she was here regularly but she could never deny how much she missed some of her old haunts.

"So, you're darkening our doorstep again."

She glanced over her shoulder, smirking as Joey Ryan appeared through the curtain. "Uh, I seem to recall you being rather distraught when I left."

"I have no memory of that."

"Of course you don't." She reached out eagerly to hug him as he came closer. "It's great to see you again, Joey. It's been a while."

"Too long," he agreed. "How you doing? How's your skull?"

"You know me, far too hard-headed to do any long term damage," she grinned, knocking her knuckles against her forehead.

"There are twenty guys backstage who will be stoked to see you. Mainly because you're single now."

Jet laughed, shoving Joey in the shoulder. She didn't bother making the point that she was still a married woman; Joey was pay less than zero attention to it. "I'm gonna head back there soon. Just thought I'd come out for a second before the fans get here. Can't be seen and all that."

"You stay out here for as long as you like. Got a good couple of hours before the fans will be let in."

Jet nodded, smiling her thanks. Joey patted her on the arm, heading back through to the locker room. She moved to sit on the edge of the ring apron, staring around the room. It felt tiny now, after years of performing in front of tens of thousands, but it didn't feel any less welcoming. That was what she remembered most about PWG – the comradery. Even with years of experience under her belt from Europe, moving to the States had been a nerve-wracking experience. Some of the locker rooms she'd found her way to had been incredibly hierarchal, and she was way down at the bottom. PWG, though… PWG was a family from the first day. Maybe it was because of the founding fathers being wrestlers themselves, or it was just pure luck in terms of who had been around at the time.

She remembered, very distinctly, her first night in the building. It was in September of 2009 for PWG's Guerre Sans Frontières show. She was wrestling Candice for the first time of many, as a try-out of sorts. If it went well, there would be more bookings in the future. And, damn, did it go well. Jet didn't miss a PWG show from then until FCW came calling, even when it meant flying from a Ring of Honor show on Saturday in the Northeast to a PWG show on Sunday in SoCal.

"Someone's deep in thought."

Jet smiled over at Adam as he took a seat beside her on the apron. "Yeah. Remembering how much I love this place. I kinda miss coming to a show and knowing most of the faces in the crowd."

"Don't miss the pay check though, huh?"

She shrugged with a smirk. "I can't say I'm willing to give up the financial security, no. I can even afford health insurance now," she teased.

"I'd hope so, it's the law now. Obama said so."

"And I'm following the law. I'm a fully-fledged adult."

"Sure."

"I totally am. I've been learning to cook and everything."

Adam's eyebrows shot up. "Seriously? You've never been able to cook."

"Figured it was about time my twenty-six year old ass learned how to put something simple together. I'm not exactly Gordon Ramsay but I'm a hell of a lot better than I used to be."

"Well, check you out."

"Right? Baby Jules is growing up, _finally_."

Adam barked with laughter. "I haven't heard you call yourself that in years."

"Consider yourself lucky, you're probably the only person this side of the Atlantic who's heard me call myself that." Jet had never been a fan of the nickname she had suffered from her father, brothers, and boys on the estate she grew up on, so it was usually said with pure disdain. Now, though, it was suitable. She had been Jules when she was small. It was about time she grew enough to leave that god awful name behind.

"Come on," he encouraged, nudging her in the shoulder. "The guys in the back are waiting to see you."

Jet nodded, jumping down onto her feet to follow him behind the curtain.

* * *

Chuck Taylor found the love-in positively disgusting. Or, so he said.

Everyone was all over Jet as soon as she stepped into the PWG locker room. As soon as she crossed the threshold, she was met with several pairs of open arms as everyone wanted to pass her around for hugs. Candice was front of the line, despite having only seen her recently when she'd travelled down with Johnny Gargano and Tommaso Ciampa on one of their NXT bookings and the two women had spent the day at Disney World. The Bucks were close behind, much more toned down than their in-ring personas. Jet spluttered when she got a face full of Matt's sideburns, batting her hands at him.

" _Dude_. Come on, I don't want your mutton chops in my mouth."

She was passed around, everyone saying kind words and squeezing her with hugs until she found herself pushed in Chuck's direction. He crossed his arms, looking firmly unimpressed.

"Yeah, yeah, you think you can just stroll back here and be the hottest thing in the building, right?"

Jet glanced around the locker room. "Well, I _am_ the hottest thing here."

"Hey!" Plenty of them yelled out in protestation but Roderick Strong was certainly the loudest.

"Bite me, Roddy. I can't help if the truth hurts."

"Who even invited her here?" Roddy grumbled playfully.

"Not me," Chuck replied, still staring hard at her. "I haven't missed you at all."

"Same. I mean, I didn't even really like you that much in the first place."

"Yeah, I only tolerated you for everyone else's sake."

"Glad we got that cleared up. No need to pretend anymore."

Just when she was about to turn her back on him, Chuck smirked and grabbed her in a headlock. "At least you're a better actress these days."

"Chuck, get off! Come on man, get off! Dustin!"

He recoiled immediately, his face the picture of distaste. "Ugh, don't do that."

"You know that is your legal name, right?" Jet shot back, flattening her messed up hair.

"Doesn't mean _you_ have to use it. You never call me Dustin."

"Well, if you wouldn't harass the poor girl…"

Jet turned over her shoulder, smiling at Marty Scurll. It had been a fair while since she'd seen him and, even then, it had mostly been in passing. "Hey man. Long time."

"Yeah," he nodded with a warm grin. He nodded to the young man beside him who was smiling eagerly. "I'm making introductions – Juliette, this is Will Ospreay."

Jet nodded, she knew him. Not in person, of course; she was already signed to FCW by the time Will was breaking into the business. She looked up at him, scrutinising him intensely. "Good God, you're an infant. When were you born?"

Will laughed. "'93."

"Jesus Christ. You're making me feel old as fuck," she sighed. He seemed barely older than her younger sister.

"Some of us are the wrong side of thirty over here!" Joey yelled.

"Yeah, yeah," Jet waved him off. "Hey, where's Zack? He's missing the England invasion."

"He couldn't make it, he had bookings in Germany."

"Sabre cut out on us but we're still here to fly the flag for the homeland," Marty chuckled.

"You should totally come out with me waving a giant Union Jack," Will insisted.

"Oh pal, I'd love to. Honestly, it would be a blast. Unfortunately, I would be on the receiving end of a pretty intense bollocking from Triple H. He warned me about being seen on anyone else's product."

"Ah, shame."

"But, hey, if we're ever in the same place again and I wouldn't be on the receiving end of Hunter's disappointed voice, I'll totally make it happen. I'm great at being an obnoxious cheerleader, ask Johnny."

"She's right," Johnny Gargano nodded somberly.

He had suffered from it for months. Since he'd started his dates with NXT, she had happily announced his arrival at the Performance Center with a loud, "Johnny Wrestling back in the house!" _every single time_. He really thought she'd tire of it eventually but she really took her job as personal cheerleader for the new team of Gargano and Ciampa seriously.

"He loves it, honestly," Jet insisted.

"He only tolerates you because he knows you've got Triple H's ear," Chuck insisted with a matter-of-fact nod.

"Oh, really? Adam, have you been telling everyone he's my dad?"

Adam held up his hands innocently. "I haven't said a word."

"He doesn't need to," Nick laughed. "It was enough to see the look on the guy's face when you fell off that ladder. We all thought he was gonna cry. It's cute. Should we start calling you Juliette Helmsley?"

"No. Is that all I've come here for, to be picked on?"

"Of course. Nothing changes, even years later," Adam laughed.

It was true. She wasn't even the youngest of their gang really, she had a few months on Adam and Nick, but being the smallest _and_ the girl _and_ the foreigner just made her the easiest target for their teasing. It was never malicious or hurtful and she'd loved it at the time, no matter how much she griped about it to them after their ribbing. Still, she wouldn't ever admit it.

"You're all dickbags."

* * *

The show had gone off great. Jet regretted not being able to take a front row seat – or maybe not, considering how often people got hurt in the front row – and had to settle for watching her friends on the small screen in the back. Even when the show was over, after an incredible Guerrilla Warfare match, Jet had to stay stowed away in the back. The fans hung around for a long while to buy merch and converse with the wrestlers, so she couldn't be seen. Sami text her while she was waiting, letting her know that he'd just woken up in Blackpool. They FaceTimed for a little while – with Fergal popping up in the background of the hotel gym to grin and wave at her – but they were cut off by the PWG locker room door opening and a curly head poking in.

"Hey, Juliette, you can come out now, everyone's gone."

Sami gasped loudly on her phone screen. "Kenny Omega!"

Kenny narrowed his eyes and slipped so easily back years. "El Generico. Funny seeing you here, señor. You know to stay outta Reseda. This still ain't over."

"Hey, hey, no problemo, amigo," Sami insisted, adopting the old accent.

Jet had seen the routine a million times and shook her head with a fond eye roll. "You two are massive nerds."

"You got that right," Kenny smiled. "Hey man, it's good to see you," he said to Sami, stepping further into the room.

"You too, buddy. You take good care of my Juliette tonight, you hear me?"

"I think we're the ones who need protecting when she's around."

"I'm still in the room, you know."

Sami flashed her a bright smile on the screen. "You have fun tonight, love. Don't do anything dumb and keep those boys in line."

"Don't I always?" she smiled innocently. She heard Fergal's voice in the background, yelling to Sami that it was time for breakfast. "Go on, go get some food. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Your tomorrow or my tomorrow?"

"Uh, my tomorrow. Your tonight."

"Okay. Love you, Jetty-Jet."

"Love you, Sam-a-lam."

Once she'd hung up, Kenny took her out to where the room was devoid of anyone except the performers. The place was a pretty bad mess but it would be taken care of eventually, when everyone felt more able to actually move. It was odd to be the most rested and healed person in the room for once.

"How'd you like it?" Candice asked when Jet took a seat on the edge of the ring apron.

"It was great, just as awesome as I remember. How you feeling? That Warfare match looked rough."

"At least we didn't use the thumbtack shoe for a superkick this time," Matt grinned.

"Very true," Jet agreed, grimacing at the memory of watching that match. "I do not miss getting in the ring with you two assholes."

"No? That's a shame," Nick sighed dramatically, "considering we've got a ring right here and everything."

Candice latched onto the idea immediately, clapping her hands like a seal. "Oh my God, yes! Come on, let's go a little!"

"No, no, I shouldn't," Jet answered immediately, smiling nervously as she tried to wave them off. She glanced at Adam for help but he was silent.

"Oh, _come on_! For old time's sake!"

It tugged at her. She'd made some fantastic memories in this building but she couldn't shake her anxiety. She shook her head. "It's not a good idea, really. I'll be in mountains of trouble if the boss finds out I got into a PWG ring."

"How will anyone find out?" Matt countered. "The cameras are off, the fans are gone. Come on, Juliette."

"You guys have had tough matches tonight, you should rest," she tried diverting.

"Scared we'll show up wrestling's darling?" Kenny teased. "It's okay, we'll go easy on you."

She searched desperately for an excuse. She felt ridiculous, standing there in front of her friends while she acted like a complete baby over the issue, but there was just no way she was getting in that ring. Today was not the day she was going to overcome that anxiety hurdle.

"Guys, really, are we gonna sit around here watching Juliette do the same stuff she's been doing for years in the ring, or are we gonna actually go have fun?" Adam spoke up, finally boring of watching the debacle.

"Yeah," Jet agreed immediately. "Whaddaya say, tonight on me?"

None of them were going to turn down a free evening, immediately dropping the idea of an impromptu match in favour of heading straight for the door. Adam looped his arm around her neck, tugging her into a loose headlock as they held back from the others. She shoved him in the ribs.

"Hey now, come on, I came to your rescue eventually."

"Yeah, you just wanted to delight in my discomfort for a while first?"

"Can you blame a guy? You're cute when you're squirming."

"I hate you," she muttered halfheartedly, shoving him again until he released the hold completely, and began to follow the others out of the building.

* * *

"God, I feel gross," Jet groaned, lying her head on the slightly sticky table.

Drinking heavily for the first time in months really wasn't agreeing with her. She hadn't touched a drop since the injury, initially on the doctor's orders and then just because she was spending so much time with Sami. Spending all her time with a guy who didn't drink kept her from doing it too. She'd even managed to avoid it during her impromptu trip to Fort Lauderdale to see Adam – mostly because she still had to get back to Orlando – but with the whole PWG roster around her it was a lot harder to hold off the peer pressure.

"Pretty sure you didn't used to be a pathetic lightweight."

"Fuck you, Roddy."

"I'm spoken for, sweetheart, I'll have to pass."

"I hate you. You're still the absolute worst."

Kyle O'Reilly chuckled, "And you're still a grumpy drunk."

"What? I've never been a grumpy drunk, I'm a lovely drunk," Jet shot back. She couldn't recall any of these guys seeing her become a bad-tempered drunk. That hadn't happened until much more recent times. Back in the day, booze used to make her a much happier person.

"You used to be a damn grumpy drunk all the time!" Roddy protested. "You wouldn't even make it out of the venue sometimes before it started!" he laughed.

Jet could see Candice and Adam sharing an uncomfortable glance out of the corner of her eye and she realised. "Oh. Yeah, I guess I was," she smiled. It was better to just go with it. There was no point in explaining now, no need. She wasn't hung up anymore, it didn't matter. "I'm sure you all deserved it whenever you were on the receiving end of my moods."

"Undoubtedly," Hero chuckled, throwing back his beer. "We were all assholes."

"That hasn't changed."

The drinks kept flowing from them on, most of them in Jet's direction. She had forgotten just how many of the old gang didn't drink. They were plenty happy to just stick to their sodas and watch while Jet and Candice engaged in a battle of who could handle the most alcohol in the shortest amount of time. Jet began to realise somewhere around the ninth drink that Roddy was right – she had become a lightweight. She could feel it everywhere, behind her eyes, in her legs, clouding her brain. Candice was just as far gone but evidently handling it better. Adam was leaning heavily on Jet's shoulder, propping himself up so he could continue to indulge. She could just vaguely see both the Bucks eyeing all three of them with wary eyes. They were used to playing sober babysitter but most nights ended when everyone realised how much money they were pissing down the drain. With Jet footing the bill, no one looked all that inclined to ease up.

"Where's my phone?" Jet gasped suddenly, her hands flittering around the table.

"In your purse," Hero replied, sipping the last of his Coke. "Same place it's been the last four times you've asked."

"I need to call Sami," she insisted suddenly.

"You spoke to him a few hours ago," Kenny reminded gently. "You said you'd call him tomorrow. He'll be busy right now."

Jet's face fell, making her look as though she was about to start crying. "Is he mad at me?"

"Of course not. He's just at work."

"I really think it's time she got home," Matt spoke up. "Matter of fact, they could both do with getting some sleep now," he added, looking between Jet and Candice.

Johnny was quick to agree that it was time he and his girlfriend got back to their room and it only took a little prompting for Adam to also consent to leaving the building. Jet was more of a struggle, especially when she didn't have a whole lot of control over her legs. She stumbled up, practically falling over the table in an attempt to hug Hero and Kyle. Chris steadied her before she faceplanted and eagerly handed her over to Matt.

"Get her back in one piece, yeah? None of us want the E on our asses for killing her."

Matt herded them all out of the bar, glancing over at his brother. "You take Candice and Johnny and I'll take these two?"

"Deal."

The trip back to the hotel wasn't so bad to start with. Matt managed to get Jet and Adam stashed in the backseat and belted in, and began the short drive. It wasn't until they were just a few minutes from their destination that the previously silent Jet spoke up loudly and in panic.

"No, wait, stop! Where's Candice? We lost Candice, we have to find her! Someone will hurt her."

"Candice is with Johnny and Nick," Matt assured her patiently. "She's fine."

"Are you sure?" she asked, unclasping her seatbelt and flinging herself forward to hang over the front seat. "Adam, is he right?"

"Uh, I think so," Adam nodded, his eyes narrowed while he thought intently about it.

"I promise you that Candice is perfectly safe."

"But what if she's not?" Jet gasped. "What if she dies? What if I killed Candice?"

"You didn't kill Candice."

"Oh God, I'm a murderer!" she wailed.

Matt sighed, pulling over to the kerb so he could grab his phone. Within five seconds he had Nick on the other end. "Dude, could you please put Candice on? Juliette is convinced we left her behind to be murdered."

" _Uh, yeah, hold on. Candice, say hi to Juliette._ "

" _Hi!"_ Candice's voice yelled. " _Juliette, I love you!"_

"I love you too! Are you alive?"

" _Um, I think so."_

"Good. Don't die, it'll make me feel really bad."

" _I'll try not to. Johnny, don't let me die."_

Johnny's voice was muffled and impossible to make out.

" _Happy_?" Nick asked.

"Yeah, thanks man," Matt replied. "Drunk chicks," he added with a roll of his eyes.

* * *

Jet was fairly sure that she now knew what being run over by a steamroller felt like.

"Sweet baby fucking Jesus," she groaned.

"Tsk, language," a voice beside her grumbled.

Jet rolled over onto her stomach, burying her face in the pillow to block out the offending light. She reached out her arm blindly, fumbling around until she felt a face and hair. "Adam?"

"Yeah. Stop poking me."

"Dude, please tell me at least one of us is wearing clothes."

"I can do you one better – _both_ of us have clothes on. Well, underwear. That counts, right?"

Jet lifted her head, looking down at herself. She still had both her bra and panties on. Admittedly, the left bra strap had slid down her arm to give more of a view than she ever intended, but she was pretty much covered in all the important places. Adam was naked all bar his boxers but, like Jet, it covered everything important. She squeezed her eyes shut again, still trying to fend off her headache. Adam chuckled, throwing his arm over her bare stomach and leaning in to bury his face in her hair.

"The morning after sucks, right?"

"You better be talking about the booze and nothing else."

"I'm offended at how put off you are by the idea of having sex with me."

"Adam."

He laughed again, squeezing her hip playfully. "Just the hangover, I swear. As far as I can remember last night, Matt just left us both in my room because you were being very uncooperative, we got undressed and both crashed within a couple of minutes. Unless you woke up and decided to ravish me in the middle of the night – which is totally illegal and immoral, Juliette – then I assure you that I have been nowhere near any of _that_ ," he promised, waving his hand around her midsection. "Roddy totally felt up your boobs last night, though."

"Roddy's gonna get his ass beat," Jet replied, although her focus was on never moving again rather than giving Roderick Strong his comeuppance for groping her. "Last thing I remember is him being a dick and Candice shoving a mountain of drinks on me. I wasn't seen on anything that'll make the PWG DVD, right?"

"Absolutely not. I mean, you totally made Twitter and Instagram but that doesn't count."

"Good, I get to keep my job."

"The job you're refusing to go back to?" Adam teased.

"Yeah, that one."

He chuckled, snuggling closer into her. "We don't have to move yet, right?"

"Nope. Not even a little bit."

It was at least another hour before either of them even considered movement. Adam wasn't quite as bad off but he understood her suffering. Unfortunately, he also knew that the sooner they started dealing with the after-effects of the booze, the sooner they'd start feeling better. When he couldn't ignore the sun streaming through the window any longer, he finally sat up. The groan that accompanied the activity was enough to have Jet covering her ears and glaring at him.

"There should be some aspirin in my bag," Adam told her. "Take some of those while I get us some coffee."

"You're a Godsend, Cole."

He grumbled something back at her as he pulled on clothes and shoes to leave the room. The water bottle from the day before that she used to swallow the pills was warm and made her gag. She eagerly grabbed out at the coffee Adam returned with, the disposable cup emblazoned with the hotel's logo. She chugged a third of it down in one, grimacing at the heat and the taste.

"This is bad coffee."

"It's coffee, it'll do."

She wouldn't argue that; any coffee was better than no coffee. She caught her shirt when Adam threw it to her, tugging it over her chest before she leaned back against the headboard. He sat beside her, still sipping away.

"I feel awful."

"Me too," Adam chuckled.

"Weren't you the one who used to stop me doing stupid shit like last night?" Jet grumbled.

"I was. You're a big girl now, you can make your own decisions. Besides, this is nowhere near the peak of stupid shit you've done."

She grimaced. Obviously what Roddy and Kyle had said the night before remained in his mind. She'd be lying if she said it wasn't still in hers too, despite her fuzzy memories. "I know. You've dealt with a lot from me. Don't think I ever thanked you for that."

She hadn't, but Adam didn't mind. Despite the three month age superiority that she loved to remind him of, he had always felt like the older of the two. He hadn't minded taking that role with her, keeping an eye on her, dragging her out of trouble whether she liked it or not. Most often, she didn't like it. She made some poor decisions back then. He understood now why she had made them but it hadn't made them any easier to stomach at the time.

It hadn't been easy to stomach when she got signed and immediately stopped returning his calls, either. He understood that now, too. She'd never done anything out of spite, it just wasn't in her, but it had hurt. He spent a few years wondering what he'd done, or whether she'd just gotten too big for the rest of them. When he'd found out the truth, and when their friendship had reignited as if no time had passed at all, things had changed. She didn't feel like the kid any more. She was a grown woman now who was finally getting herself together. She owned a house, had been married, had set herself up financially for many years to come, and had a career that would see her through into a comfortable retirement. He didn't feel such a need to look after her anymore.

"You don't have to thank me."

"Yes, I do. Friend or not, no one should have to put up with that much fuckery."

Adam looped his arm around the back of her neck, tugging her in for a hug. "Shut up, I did it because I love you."

Jet shoved him away, pressing her head to her pounding head. "Jesus, be gentle." She set her coffee on the bedside table and lay all the way back, staring up at the ceiling. "I love you too. I've probably said it a million times over the last couple of months but I'm really glad to have you back."

He flopped down beside her, nodding his head. "Me too." He paused for a moment, wondering whether or not to bring up what he wanted to say. He decided to go for it. After all, she really was a grown ass woman now. She could deal with the conversation. "You know that night in the bar, in Reading? Moxley told me he takes better care of you than I ever did. Not gonna lie, I was a little offended."

"Did he say that?" She only sounded vaguely interested. They hadn't talked a whole lot about Jon.

"Well, not in as many words. He implied it."

"Well, he wouldn't know, would he?"

"You never told him?"

"I never told anyone, you and Candice are the only ones who know. I nearly did, once. Back when we first started our _thing_. Figured he'd understand."

"He would."

"You're not usually on his side."

"I'm not on his side, I'm on your side. I'm just saying, of all the things in the world, he'd understand that." Adam paused. "Where are you guys at with each other?"

"Nowhere, really," Jet shrugged, turning on her side to face him. "He texts every now and then, just casual friendly conversation. I spoke to him on his birthday. Neither of us bring up the serious stuff. I guess we'll have to talk properly when I head back out on the road."

"Is that why you don't want to go?"

"No," she answered, completely honestly. "I'm not worried about seeing him again. Jon's easy that way, everything just kind of falls into place."

"You gonna try something out with him?"

"I don't know."

"I know you; the what-if would kill you if you didn't."

"And you'd approve?"

Adam chuckled. "Who gives a shit if I approve? This is your life, Juliette. If you want to date the guy, you go right ahead. I'll be there to pick up the pieces if you need me to."

Jet smiled, snuggling closer to him. "Who needs a date when you've got Adam Cole, huh? I lucked out."

"Hell yeah you did. I'm a handsome son of a bitch."

"That you are. You didn't used to be; I remember when we met and you just had that stupid patch of hair on your chin and those neon green trunks."

"Excuse you, I've always been cute. It's a real curse sometimes."

"I'm sure. I mean, I've really noticed all the rabid girls throwing themselves at you this weekend," she teased with a smirk.

"You've been scaring them off. You're intimidating."

"Oh, _sure_ , blame me."

"It is your fault! What are girls supposed to think when I've got a gorgeous blonde on my arm, huh?" Adam grinned, poking her in the ribs.

"You know you're definitely gonna be my boyfriend according to the internet, right?"

"There are worse people I could be not-dating."

She smiled fondly. "Ditto."

They finished their coffees mostly in silence, savouring the peace. A text from Candice informed Jet that they were expected in the hotel restaurant for lunch in an hour whether they wanted to or not. For the time being they were content to relax and fight off the more bothersome aspects of their hangovers. Finally, when Candice sent a caps locked message saying they had ten minutes, they began to move. Adam went into the bathroom to change, calling out to Jet through the door.

"Hey, are you going home for Christmas?"

"Nope. My gift to my parents is their first ever vacation that's just the two of them. So, they're gonna be in the Bahamas, Olivia and Teddy are staying with Nana, and the rest of us are doing our own thing."

"You're gonna be alone? Come to my mom's again, she'll love to have you."

Before Phil, Jet had spent her Thanksgivings with Corey. The two of them were certainly on much better footing these days – they spoke on the phone at least every couple of weeks – but there was still a tension that had never existed between them before. Jet supposed it was because she refused to apologise for _everything_. She had unreservedly offered the most heartfelt sorry for she'd said regarding his concussions since there had been absolutely no excuse for that. She wouldn't, on the other hand, take the full blame for their relationship being strained before that incident. Sure, she hadn't been great about checking in with him but neither had he. Jet didn't like being on less than fantastic terms with him, not after all they'd been through together, so she was hoping things would repair organically. As it stood, she hadn't felt right imposing on him over Thanksgiving. When Adam heard about it, he immediately offered her a spot at the table with his family.

"Thanks for the offer but I won't be alone. Brock invited me to stay with him."

"You're spending Christmas with Brock Lesnar?" Adam asked, poking his head around the bathroom door.

"Yup. I haven't seen him since Brooklyn."

"I don't imagine Brock Lesnar _doing_ Christmas."

Jet laughed, shaking her head at him. "He does normal people things, y'know. Mostly."

"Sure. Well, if those plans fall through, you're always welcome with me and mom."

She pulled her shoes on, breezing past the bathroom toward the room door. She kissed his cheek as she went, smiling happily. "You're the best."

* * *

Lunch was a relatively sedate affair, especially compared to the night before. A lot of the PWG group had already left to head home, leaving just Adam, Jet, Candice, Johnny, Tommaso, Hero, Chuck and Will to work their way slowly through a meal together. Candice immediately began organising another Disney World excursion for the next time she'd be in Orlando while Chuck shot various insults at them for fun.

Jet's phone rang loudly in the middle of their conversation. She was going to ignore it until she saw Hunter's name appear on the screen. She lifted it to her ear and quickly muttered to everyone else around the table, "Guys, shhh. It's Hunter."

The table hushed for a moment while Jet answered the call.

"Hey, Boss Man."

As soon as she'd spoken, they all erupted. There were ridiculous yells coming from everyone, some of them vulgar and some just stupid. She should have known they'd do it; they were all overgrown children who would delight in embarrassing her. She glared at them while hearing Hunter chuckle in her ear.

" _Your friends are very loud_."

"My friends are idiots," she countered. "Sorry. What's up?"

" _Well, you remember when you asked about going out to California and I said sure, on the basis that you behaved yourself?"_

"Yep."

" _Multiple videos on Instagram and Twitter of you absolutely hammered doesn't count as behaving yourself."_

"Ah, c'mon, it's not my fault what ends up on the internet! I wasn't even that drunk!"

"She's lying, Triple H!" Chuck yelled. "She is a heinous liar!"

" _Who the hell is that?"_

"Chuck Taylor," Jet answered, kicking him under the table. "Ignore him."

" _Please, for the love of all that is holy, just keep a low profile, will you? If it gets back to HQ that I'm letting you hang around PWG shows while you're supposed to be healing, we'll both be in for it."_

"Sure, you got it. Low profile, that's my middle name."

"Her middle name is Alexandra! I told you, she's a filthy liar!" Chuck yelled.

He received a harder kick to the shin, finally silencing him after a pained gasp. "Sorry, boss. I promise, nothing else on social media."

" _Good. I'll be in Orlando on Wednesday, we'll talk about your return then._ "

"Uh, sure," she agreed reluctantly. "I'll see you Wednesday." She hung up with the grimace still on her face, turning to face the others. "What the hell is online that got Hunter's panties in a bunch?"

Will chuckled. "Oh, you're really great when you're drunk. Nick had a field day."

Sure enough, as soon as Jet opened up Nick Jackson's Twitter page, she was overwhelmed with the number of pictures and videos he'd posted. It was all centred on her, undoubtedly the Bucks' idea of ribbing her. It didn't start off so bad, just short clips of her chatting with the guys happily and then progressing onto her awkward but still not mortifying renditions of various 80s hits. Her cover of Take On Me was certainly something, though she would prefer it hadn't been uploaded to Twitter for the rest of the world to see.

From there, it only got worse.

The rapid dwindling of her sobriety was documented over several videos and pictures, including a short ten second clip of Matt asking her a long winded question only to receive a blank stare and garbled words, another clip of her exuberant dancing with Candice and Hero, and culminating in the pièce de résistance – a photo of Adam smushing her cheeks together until her entire face was squished and planting a kiss right on her lips, both of them hardly looking conscious.

"Well, _definitely_ my boyfriend," Jet remarked, showing Adam the photo.

"Huh, how 'bout that?" He clearly didn't remember it any better than she did. "What can I say? I'm an affectionate drunk."

"What have I told you about kissing me with your tobacco mouth?"

"Whoops? Don't pretend you've never indulged in the occasional cigarette."

She couldn't really argue that. When Adam grinned smugly at winning the point, Jet rolled her eyes at him and turned her attention back to her phone to send Nick a strongly worded tweet, demanding he take down the videos and photos in question. He sent her back the winky emoji and nothing else. Clearly the articles of evidence would live on.

She left her phone on the table, returning back to the conversations that Hunter had interrupted. She fully intended to enjoy her last few hours with her friends before they all went their separate ways, until the damned thing was ringing again. The vibration made it slide across the table surface.

"Jeez, is that dad calling again?" Hero teased. "Have you ever reminded Hunter that you're a big girl now?"

Jet glanced down at the caller ID. It wasn't Hunter. "I'm gonna take this over there," she stated, pointing toward a quiet area of the lobby. Adam nodded, turning back to talk to Johnny as she walked away.

"Hello."

" _Miss Madden, this is Richard Kulerski calling_."

"Hi, Mister Kulerski, what can I do for you?"

" _I thought you'd like to be informed that Mister Brooks is still refusing to take my calls, or make plans for filing a response once he'd been served_."

Jet sighed. She hadn't expected anything different. "Okay, so what can we do?"

" _Well, nothing. If Mister Brooks refuses to play ball, you have a two-year waiting period."_

"Yes, I know," she replied snappily. "This is ridiculous, isn't there something you can do?"

" _There aren't any loopholes here, Miss Madden. Either your husband agrees or you must wait out the two years. Might I suggest you trying speaking to him? Perhaps he just needs a dose of reality."_

"You have no idea how stubborn that man is." She shook her head, knowing she was talking to a brick wall. The guy could only do what the law allowed. "Okay, thanks. I'll let you know if I make any headway." She hung up after very hurried goodbyes, wanting to be done with him.

When she sat back down at the table, Adam turned to her and noted her tense frown immediately. "Who was that?"

Jet glanced at him and lowered her voice. "My divorce lawyer."

He leaned in, his eyes wide. "Your _what_ lawyer? When were you gonna tell me that?"

"I was hoping it would be when everything was done. Not many people know at the moment, just Sami and April." She began to explain, keeping her voice hushed so the others wouldn't hear. "I told Phil a few weeks ago that I plan to file. He told, pretty damn categorically, that I could have fun doing that because there's no way in hell he's gonna sign. I'm not even being unreasonable about anything. I don't want anything from him. He can keep both houses, anything that wasn't mine before we got married, even the dogs."

"Are you still visiting the dogs?" That part Adam did know about.

Jet nodded. She'd been going out as often as she could manage and she loved those trips. No matter what else was going on her dogs didn't deserve to suffer.

"Maybe you need to stop doing that. At least, for now. You going out there probably makes him think that eventually you'll back down and go home."

"That's not good for either of us."

"I know that and you know that, but I don't think he does. I guess it's understandable, you're his wife and he loves you, but it's about damn time he thinks about what you want."

"I want this all to be over. We were great for each other for a while but there's no way it works with me on the road. Our time apart was always one of our biggest problems and he can't stand the company. How am I supposed to be married to a man who can't stomach my job?"

"You don't have to explain yourself to me," Adam assured her. "I'm with you. You guys might have worked in some alternate reality, but in this one it's just too difficult. I know you love him but you're making the right decision for yourself."

"He clearly doesn't think so," she sighed. "I've text and called, he just won't listen."

"He's a stubborn guy. You two have that in common."

"For once I'm trying to make a mature decision and he won't let me."

"What's the deal right now? He can't just refuse indefinitely, right?"

"No. If he would agree then this could all be done at the end of January. If he won't, I have to wait two years."

"Do you want me to go out there?" Adam offered. "Seriously, if he needs roughing up a little bit, I'll do it."

"I could rough him up myself if I really wanted to. I just think it was bad timing, you know? He hurt his shoulder a few months back and he was in a pretty bad place already with… everything else. Without being able to train, he just wallowed in his bad mood. Me telling him that he's gonna get served with a divorce petition soon just as he was getting back in his groove probably wasn't the best idea."

"You're gonna have to go talk to him in person. You know you are."

Jet rubbed her eyes, wishing she'd saved all this talking for when she wasn't painfully hungover. She knew he was right, that was her only option. She didn't want to hear it though.

"What the hell are you two whispering about?" Candice asked loudly.

Jet forced up a smile, turning her attention back to the rest of the table. Most of them were looking at her thanks to Candice's volume, waiting on an answer. "Uh, nothing. Figuring out what we can do before my flight leaves tomorrow."

She saw a few completely unconvinced faces but none of them pulled her up on it. They all returned to their food and chats, no one but Adam knowing that her incredible weekend had just been dampened.

* * *

There it is. Like I said, mostly a fun chapter but with some things to set up for future events. I hope you guys enjoyed this (and please let me know if you prefer much shorter chapters).

Follows/favourites/reviews are always very much loved and appreciated!


	2. is it in you to be honest?

Thank you all so much for the incredible response to the first chapter. It was so lovely to read your reviews and see the favourites/follows so I know that you guys are still with me. Hopefully I can keep you hooked. This chapter is where we really kick off the drama, so let's get to it.

* * *

 **Saturday, January 9, 2016  
Chicago, Illinois**

Jet pulled her coat tighter, trying to expel her nervous energy. It was her sixth time back in the city since she'd left and, barring once before, Phil hadn't been home every time. They arranged it that way, just to save themselves the stress. He wanted to be there when she arrived each time, she knew that from the short calls they exchanged, but he always agreed to find something to busy himself with so she could spend an afternoon with the dogs. It wasn't enough time with them for her liking but it was the best they could manage without getting under each other's feet. The last time she had seen him in person was shortly after his birthday… that visit didn't go to plan. She didn't even tell him in person that she planned to file soon. It was cowardly and the stream of confused and, frankly, pissed off text messages she received were testament to that.

He hadn't expected to receive the text saying that she'd be filling in the forms at the end of January. Jet hadn't expected to send it either, really. She made her mind up quickly, just a little over a month after she'd settled in Orlando. She hadn't planned on it but her trip to Chicago at the end of October had solidified to her that it was something she had to do. For both of them. It hadn't been easy and it took multiple bouts of encouraging pep talks from Sami Zayn to actually convince herself that signing those papers when the time came was the right thing to do. No matter the stab in her chest and the disappointment at the finality, there would be a calming sense of closure that came from scratching her signature on the dotted line. Things couldn't work out with them, she knew that. Better to pull the Band-Aid off quickly.

She had already put this visit off for too long. After her impromptu trip out to Reseda, Jet knew she had to deal with this issue. Adam told her as much. Instead, she ignored it until she travelled to Canada on the 20th to spend Christmas and New Year with the Lesnar family. She felt like a well-loved aunt on arrival, getting smothered in hugs from the kids and Rena. Brock played the role of big brother perfectly over the two weeks, playfully aggravating her until his wife stepped in and told him in no uncertain terms that he was to be polite and sweet to their guest. Jet was sure Brock didn't know what _sweet_ meant.

She had a great time. Until she realised it was already the fourth day of 2016 and she really had to go about getting back to real life. She spent a few days in Orlando to decompress before she finally bit the bullet and called Phil to make sure he'd be in Chicago sometime soon. He was clearly surprised by the request but agreed that he'd be back in their marital home that weekend. She tried to pretend for most of her flight that she was just going to see Bonnie and Pudge. If she could make believe that he wouldn't be there, maybe she'd actually get to the house without her stomach knotting up.

No such luck.

She took her time getting through the airport, checking her phone for any news. She had a missed call from Hunter but those were standard these days. Their talk after her trip to California hadn't gone the way he hoped – hence why she still had the free time to be in Chicago rather than being in Louisiana with the rest of the roster that day – and he had taken to calling her multiple times a week in an effort to harass her into admitting she was ready to go back. She ignored the missed call and went to her messages to answer Adam.

 _ **You there yet?**_

 _Yep, landed ten minutes ago. Just about to jump in a cab._

 _ **Good, let me know how it goes. That offer to rough him up still stands.**_

She chuckled, knowing he was absolutely serious. It was because of him that she was there, he had been the one to really give her the push to book a flight back to the Midwest. She had been much better about facing up to her problems since she'd re-settled in Florida, it was one of the prime points she was working on, but _this_ was something else. This wasn't a problem that she could just look squarely in the eye and make go away; she knew her husband well enough to know that this was going to drag. He wasn't an easy man to reason with.

She took her time getting a cab and even more time actually walking up the steps to the house. She still had a key to the Chicago house, just for the days she visited the dogs, but it didn't feel right to use it knowing he was inside. It wasn't her home anymore, she shouldn't just let herself in. She took a deep breath and rapped her knuckles against the door.

Phil didn't say anything when he pulled it open. He'd had all week to prepare himself for her visit and still hadn't managed to figure out how he was supposed to feel when he saw her. Hurt? Angry? Pleased? All of the above? It was every one of them, and none of them, all at once. He stepped out of the doorway to open it up to her, letting her follow him inside.

The dogs were on her immediately. Jet smiled happily and crouched down to the ground, letting them smother her. Phil watched silently while she fussed over them, getting covered in hair and taking multiple hits in the ribs from enthusiastically wagging tails. Once she'd spent a good while baby talking the dogs, she looked up at him.

"Your beard is getting ridiculous."

Phil chuckled, scratching at his facial hair. That was one way to say hello, he supposed. "Nice to see you too, sweetheart."

Jet smiled fondly. She shook her head as she climbed back to her feet and took a seat at the opposite end of the couch. "It's good to see you, Phil." She paused momentarily. "It does look ridiculous though."

"Keeps my face warm."

"Well, it's your face. Do what you want with it."

"Exactly," he agreed. "Not like I'm bothering anyone with it."

She sighed. She hadn't expected him to be reserved about it but she hoped they could at least go five minutes without a sly remark. He hadn't even tried to be discreet. She curved an eyebrow at him. "Really?"

"What?"

"You know what."

"I'm just making an observation. If I were kissing someone and it bothered them, maybe I'd shave it. That's all. Some of us _aren't_ kissing people."

She rolled her eyes. "Phil."

" _What?"_

"Just say it. Say you're pissed at me. Say you're fucking mad that I'm having fun and you aren't. Say exactly what you're thinking about me and Adam, go for it."

He held up his hands innocently, smirking infuriatingly. "I've got nothing to say about Adam Cole."

"You should be thanking him. He's the one that convinced me to come out here."

"Oh yeah? He want this divorce pushed along so you can be Mrs Cole?"

If it were possible, Jet's eyes might have rolled straight out of her head. "Adam and I aren't _together_ , you're being an ass. That photo was a joke."

"I know," Phil grinned. "Just because I'm straight edge doesn't mean I can't tell when two people are drunk out of their minds. I knew it was a joke picture, I just like tugging your chain."

He was having so much fun and she wanted nothing more than to hit him straight in the face. "Well, if you're quite done with your chain tugging, we have stuff to talk about."

"Oh, c'mon, don't be so grumpy! You didn't even wish me a happy Christmas and you wanna just come in here and talk legalities?"

"I was busy over Christmas."

"Yeah, with your harem of lovers?" He teased, wiggling his eyebrows. Jet picked up the sofa cushion and threw it at his chest. He caught it, laughing loudly. "Alright, sorry, sorry. Why were you busy? You're not working."

"I stayed with Brock for a couple of weeks."

"Really?" His eyebrows went up again, this time in surprise. "You? Stayed in Saskatchewan? In the winter?"

"Yes. He invited me and I wasn't doing anything else. Besides, I've been trying to do things I don't usually do, it's helping me figure myself out. Brock took me hunting."

Phil's eyebrows went as high as physically possible. " _You_ killed an animal?"

"No, of course not. I don't have a hunting license, Brock did all the shooting. I cried when he killed the deer, though. I don't enjoy hunting, as it turns out."

"Well, I could have told you that."

"Yes, but now I know for definite. I'm _learning_ things about myself; that's the whole point of this."

"Well, I'm thrilled for you to have discovered that killing animals isn't your thing," he smirked.

She couldn't even help smiling a little. Even when he grated on her nerves, it somehow amused her. "You really are an ass."

Pudge jumped up onto the couch between the two of them, laying his head on Jet's lap. She stroked his ears, smiling down at the puppy.

"They've missed you."

"I've missed them," she replied sadly.

" _I've_ missed you."

She sighed, looking anywhere but into her husband's eyes. "It's not that I haven't missed you, Phil…"

"It's just that you don't miss me enough to make a go of this."

"Come on, do you seriously think this is a good idea for either of us? Do you?"

"I think it's a fan-fucking-tastic idea."

"So, I take it you won't sign?"

"Nope."

She sighed, dropping her head forward. "Why are you doing this? Really? Is it some sort of punishment for what I did? Are you that mad at me?"

Phil chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm not mad at you. I was, for a while. Fucking furious covers it better, but when has that ever lasted where you're concerned? I'm doing this because I don't want a divorce and you don't either."

"Don't do that," she shot at him. "Don't negate my decisions. I'm finally taking charge of my life and you have no damn right to stop me. I'm going to file because I _do_ want this divorce. I want it over and done with, Phil. Plain and simple."

"That's it, that's all we boil down to? Something to be done with? Ouch."

Jet rubbed at her face. "I'm not trying to hurt you more here, okay? This," she waved her hand between the two of them, "is just not workable. I wish it was, I really do. I wish we could have stayed together and in love for the rest of our lives but it just isn't going to to happen."

"So, you don't love me anymore?"

"That's not what I said. Of course I still love you. Love has never been the problem."

"We can work all the rest of it out, Juliette. Everything else that you think is wrong, we'll figure it out."

She admired his persistence, if nothing else. "You're refusing to face reality here, Phil. Sure, things could be good for a while but what about when I'm back on the road? You won't trust me around him, for good reason. It's not fair to either of us to live in that situation. I never expected a marriage to be easy, but it is definitely not supposed to be this hard."

"If you're so sure about all this, why did we—?"

"Don't."

Phil smirked. "Don't act bashful now, Juliette. You certainly weren't then."

"That was a lapse in judgement."

"A three-hour long lapse in judgement?"

Jet got to her feet with a shake of the head. "I'm leaving."

"Hey," he protested, reaching out to grab her wrist, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I won't mention it again, I promise."

She sat back down reluctantly. "If you won't agree to sign, we don't have much else to talk about."

"No? Nothing? Not _us_?"

"I thought I'd made it clear that there isn't an us to talk about. I've lied to you enough before now. I'm trying to be honest about all this and you're refusing to hear it."

"Truth is relative."

"No, it isn't. The truth of the matter is that I want to divorce you. It's not because I don't love you, it's because love isn't enough. You can't stay married to someone purely on the basis of love and half-assed hope. There has to be more to it – trust, communication, hell, just some actual time spent together. We don't have any of that. Believe me when I say that I miss you every single day, but I'm learning to deal with it. You will too."

Phil ran his hand over his shaved head, a stark contrast to his overgrown beard. He really had thought he'd talk her around but she sounded so set on her choice. There wasn't even a waver in her voice, no suggestion of any kind of doubt. "Is this about him? You want to divorce me so you can go and be with him instead?"

"None of this is about Jon. I haven't even seen him in months. Besides, if I want to be with him, still being married to you doesn't make a damn bit of difference. We're separated, I can do what I want."

"You should."

"Excuse me?" Jet asked, her eyebrows rising.

"You should go and be with him."

" _What?"_ It was precisely the last thing she expected to hear come out of his mouth.

"Maybe it's just something you need to do. Get it out of your system."

Jet's fingers went to her temples, rubbing a soothing circle against them. "You just don't get it, do you? Absolutely nothing I say is going in that thick skull of yours. _This isn't about Jon_. I'm not divorcing you for him, I'm divorcing you for _me_. What about that can't you understand? Let me go, Phil."

"I can't," he replied, dropping his head to the side. "That's the part _you_ don't understand. It's not as easy for me as it is for you."

"It's not easy for me!" Jet yelled, getting to her feet. Pudge jumped off the couch and scampered away. "I never said this was easy, I said it was _right_! You think I came into this wanting to get divorced before we'd even hit our anniversary? You think I want to have everyone knowing my private business on the damn internet? You think I want to hurt you? I've never wanted any of that but I got it anyway, so now I just have to do what I can to fix it. This is the only way to fix it, Phil! We are never going to be on the same page. You hate the place I work, you wouldn't trust me for every second I was gone, I feel like I can't talk to you for risk of an argument, and I still have feelings for another man! What part of that sounds like a situation that it's possible to have a stable marriage in?"

Phil leaned all the way back against the couch, slightly away from her fuming face, and heaved out all his breath. Every word she said was the truth, it was all logical, and yet he still couldn't even entertain the idea of signing his name on a divorce petition. He couldn't let go of her, no matter how much sense it made, no matter how much she asked. His eyes flicked almost subconsciously to the wedding photo that was framed on the shelf; how could that have been less than a year ago? How could he have been her world so recently, and now she was pleading with him to let her go? How had they got here?

"I can't," he repeated. "I'm sorry. This isn't to punish you, or hurt you, or hold something over your head, I just _can't_. If I signed it, I'd never forgive myself for not doing everything I possibly could to save us."

Jet clenched her jaw tightly. "Well, I guess I better go home then. Clearly there's nothing I can say to you."

"Oh, come on, stay a little longer. We can still just talk, can't we? Married or not, we're friends, right?"

She wanted to reply that a friend would do as she asked but it would only antagonise the situation further. She didn't want to be on bad terms with him at all. "Of course we're friends. I'll stay for a little."

"Long enough for dinner?" Phil asked temptingly, wiggling his eyebrows at her. "We could order in. Chinese with your name on it."

She smiled tightly at him. _Keep him on side, don't make this a battle._ "Okay. I really do have to leave after that, though. I'm still expected at the Performance Center tomorrow."

"Sure, sure. Hold on, I'll find the menu."

If nothing else, it was an opportunity for her to spend more time with her dogs. Phil was moving quietly, hurrying around the kitchen to find their stashed pile of takeout menus. She watched him go, feeling her chest ache. He was back within a few moments, offering her the pile to take her pick from. Once she had, he called and ordered, smiling over at her while he held the phone to his ear. She smiled quickly in return and immediately turned her attention back to where Pudge had resettled at her feet. She whistled for Bonnie, the older dog trudging over at a slow pace. With the way things could potentially go where Phil was concerned, she didn't know when she'd next get to see the dogs.

He settled beside her on the couch again, curling one leg up under his body. "So… how you been?"

It was funny, neither of them had really asked that over the last few months. "Yeah, good. Florida suits me."

"Yeah, you're a sun worshiper."

Jet shrugged. "True. Comes from all those years in the Manchester rain. I've had a latent craving for Vitamin D all my life."

"I'm glad you're happy out there."

It was so sincere and made Jet's heart ache all the more for doing this to him. She couldn't reply, there was nothing she could say that would make it any less hurtful to him that she was doing so well without him, not when he clearly didn't feel that way without her. He was struggling and it ignited the instinct in her to stay there with him, to make it better. She kept her mouth closed for fear that she _would_ offer and they would end up starting this whole cycle again.

Phil understood her silence and continued. As much as he enjoyed winding her up and as much as he wanted them to go back to be a happily married couple, he _didn't_ want to actually upset her. She was clearly on the verge of it.

"So, anyway, your mom called me a few days ago."

It wasn't news to Jet that her mother was keeping in touch with him but she appreciated his tact in switching gears. "She likes you. Wants to make sure you're doing okay."

"And yet, your daddy doesn't speak to me at all," he remarked with a sarcastic smile.

Jet smirked. "He doesn't like you as much."

"Kinda figured he'd come out here and beat my ass when he found out we broke up."

"I told him the truth, he knows it's not your fault."

Her father hadn't seemed at all surprised when Jet had FaceTimed the family and informed them awkwardly that she was starting the process of getting divorced. They had fretted so much after her televised injury that she hadn't thought it good timing to inform them until she was sure that divorce was the right option. Her dad ended up just simply stating that he wanted her to be happy and he hoped it would be an easy transition. Her mother was a little more tearful about it, unfortunately. Jet knew that they had been back and forward on the rollercoaster of a relationship with her; she felt guilty for adding another loop. Seb made her promise that the next time she got a boyfriend, it would be one for life since the rest of them couldn't stand any more drama.

"Does he really care whose fault it is? He's your dad, he undoubtedly thinks I'm in the wrong here. Besides, he never liked me."

"That's not true. My dad isn't very warm to most people, it's nothing personal."

"Feels a little personal," Phil chuckled. He waved his hand, not wanting to get into a debate about her dad's personal traits. That would undoubtedly not go well. "Hell, doesn't matter, does it? It wouldn't be right if he didn't side with you."

"I don't know, my dad was always the first to tell us when we were being dicks. I like to think that I'll know when my kids are in the wrong and not just blindly defend them. I don't wanna be that kind of parent."

It was Phil's turn to go silent. They weren't supposed to be her kids, they were supposed to be _their_ kids. She was the only woman he had ever imagined a marriage and children with and it was all fading away faster than he could manage to scramble for it.

Jet cleared her throat awkwardly, knowing she'd said exactly the wrong thing. She could have sworn he looked like he might cry. She could count on one hand with fingers spare how many times she'd seen him cry and she didn't want to be the cause of it. It was too late for that, of course, after everything else she'd already done. She got to her feet, suddenly overwhelmed with the reality of sitting in her marital home with the man she loved and had hurt anyway. He deserved so much better. She pulled her coat back on rapidly and got to her feet.

"It's time for me to go."

"Don't—"

"Phil, we're just prolonging a painful afternoon for us both here. I'm sorry but I've said everything I came to say. I'll be finalising the petition paperwork at the end of the month, you can file your response afterward. We'll deal with it from there. I'm sorry," she repeated.

"The food," he attempted plaintively. "It'll be here soon."

"Call Colt, I'm sure he'd love dinner." She didn't stop as she moved for the door, refusing to let him convince her to stay any longer. She'd already been there far longer than she intended and it hadn't done her any favours. "Please think about it," she implored as she petted the dogs for a quick goodbye. "Think about signing."

He shook his head and shrugged helplessly at her. They were at an impasse. "I can't."

Jet stared in his eyes and knew he was telling the truth. It wasn't that he _wouldn't_ , it was that he genuinely believe he _couldn't_ in good conscience agree to irreconcilable differences. She heaved a sigh and nodded, turning silently out of the door.

* * *

 **Tampa, Florida**

Jet drove to Tampa before she even dropped her bag off at home. She had promised April news once she was done in Chicago and it didn't feel like something she could adequately relay over text message. In reality, Jet just wanted her best friend to tell her that she was right in going out there, right in saying what she had, and right in leaving. She knew she wouldn't get that, not so simply; April had been visibly disappointed in her when Jet first told her of her plans to complete the divorce paperwork. It didn't take an expert in body language to read between the lines that the Puerto Rican didn't support the separation. She wanted her friends together.

April went about making coffee while Jet collapsed on the couch, exhausted from the flights and the emotional nature of really facing up to her husband. Neither of them spoke save for short greetings until April had set the mug down on the table and turned to face her friend with an expectant expression.

"So?"

"He just flat out _refused_."

"Well, he's allowed to," April shrugged. "I mean, legally."

"Just because he can doesn't mean he should. He's literally forcing me to stay married. Isn't that against the Geneva Convention or something?"

"I'm pretty sure those rules only apply during wartime."

"Well, then, it breaks the Human Rights Act."

"Don't think so."

Jet huffed. "April, you're not helping."

"Sorry. I agree with you, it's not the best course of action to just outright deny the divorce, but he probably sees it as equally douchey to have an affair with a guy and then spring a divorce within a couple of months."

Jet ignored the jab. "I wish he _would_ see it that way, then maybe he'd file under adultery and I could just sign on the dotted line."

"Be honest, did you actually expect him to agree?"

"I hoped I might be able to talk some sense into him."

"It won't work. He still loves you."

Jet rolled her eyes. "You sound like him. I still love him too, that's not the problem."

April shrugged again. "You want to be with Jon."

"I didn't say that."

"You don't have to, I can see it on your face. I know you still text him."

Jet couldn't ignore the accusatory tone of her friend's voice any longer. It seemed to always go this way now, April always wanted to bring Jon into it. "I'm allowed to text him. I'm allowed to text whoever the hell I want."

"Yeah, okay, I'm just saying it's a little iffy to be texting your other man while you're still married."

"We're separated. Am I seriously meant to put everything on hold until I can push through the divorce in two years? Really?"

"No, of course not," April shook her head. She could hear the edge of frustration in Jet's voice. "I just mean that if this were me, I'd have waited a little longer than a few weeks from leaving my husband to be chatting up someone else."

"I'm not chatting him up! We _talk_. Y'know, like normal, grown-ass adults do. Even then, it's a couple of times a week, if that. This isn't some illicit affair, it's me getting on with my life."

"And there's exactly why I think you don't love Phil anymore at all. You're 'getting on with your life' pretty quickly. I just worry about you, chick. I can tell you want to try something out with Jon whether you actually say it or not, and I don't want you to be disappointed when it doesn't work out."

Jet was getting angry and she was getting there fast. "First of all, having a relationship with Jon hasn't even crossed my mind since, y'know, I haven't _seen_ him in months. Second, stop bloody acting like you've got some damn foresight where he's concerned. _When_ it doesn't work out? You're so willing to write him off before anything even happens but you can't see what's right in front of all our faces right now – that Phil and I already haven't worked out."

April didn't back down, as usual she stuck to her guns. "You and Phil haven't worked out because you don't want it to."

Jet stared around herself, wondering if this was some elaborate ruse intended to wind her up. "Am I honestly the only person seeing reality? If you and Phil have some magical answer to how the hell we're supposed to make it while I'm working in a company he can't stand with a man he'll never trust, please tell me. Apparently I missed that visit from the fairy godmother."

"You know what the answer is."

"Oh, I do? Enlighten me."

"Quit."

"No." Jet scoffed, shaking her head. It was categorical, leaving zero room for negotiation.

"See, that's what I mean. You love your job more than your husband. Your whole argument about still loving him and doing this for the both of you just loses all weight when you admit a job means more to you than he does."

The Brit rubbed at her eyes. The day had been too longer and she couldn't wait to get home to Sami. He'd be fully on her side and hopefully there would be ice cream involved. "I have worked my ass off for over a decade for this. It's not just my job, it's been my _life_. What would I do if I gave it up? Just sit at home? Never find anything that gives me the same fulfilled feeling that wrestling does? You know I'd end up resenting him for that. I really did think you of all people would understand how much it means to me but I guess you retiring should have proved otherwise."

"I retired because it was what I needed to do!" April protested immediately. Her leaving hadn't come up in a long time but it was still a subject with rough edges.

"And me staying is what I need to do!"

"Okay, that's fine, but you have to be honest that you're placing your job ahead of your husband! You can't pretend Jon doesn't have a part in this. You staying at work is great for you and him." April shook her head, letting out a deep breath. "I just don't see any future for the two of you. I think he's in love with the idea of having you as his girlfriend and as soon as the novelty wears off, he'll be back to his old self. You'll be the one left hurting when he's out chasing some other tail."

Jet let that all sink in before she replied. She let it sift through her mind that her best friend had honestly just said that to her. She could mostly look past April's casual pokes at her but she wouldn't stand for her friend speaking poorly of Jon when it wasn't true and he wasn't there to defend himself. "So, I'm just a _novelty_ now? I'm not sure what's more insulting, the idea that there's nothing about me he actually honestly loves, or the idea that he's apparently incapable of loving someone longer than five minutes before he's on to the next girl."

"Oh, come on, you know that's not what I meant."

"No, no, I'm not done. You don't see any future for us? Sweetheart, I couldn't give two shits what future _you_ see because I sure as hell see a less stressful one with him than I do with Phil. And you sure have a lot of opinions about him for someone who refused to give him the time of day for months. Funny thing is, neither of us know his _old self_. I only know who he's always shown me he is. Who was there for me when you hightailed it out of there rather than help fight for the change that you said you wanted so badly? Who was there for me when Phil had no interest in even asking how my shows went, let alone actually giving a fuck about them? Who was there for me when everyone else turned on me? The only old self I know of Jon's is the one who's been a stand-up guy through all of this." Jet paused, breathing in deeply through her mouth to calm herself down. "I didn't come here to argue with you. I hoped you'd be a listening ear after the fucking stress of Chicago but I know that you're just like Phil – too hung up on the romantic notion of us working out that you can't see that I'm the one being sensible. So, I'm going home. I'll go and speak to the friends who actually have a grip on their sanity."

"Juliette—"

"Don't," Jet shook her head, stepping out of the way of April's hand. "It's best for both of us to cool down right now."

April let her arm fall to her side. "I'm sorry for upsetting you. That's not what I meant to do."

"I know." Of course she knew that she hadn't set out with the intention of being unkind, but that didn't make the end result any less hurtful. "I'm tired, it's been a long day. You're emotionally invested in our relationship. Neither of those things are conducive to a reasonable discussion. I'll call you tomorrow or something when we've both had some breathing room."

April nodded. Neither of them wanted the argument and Jet was being sensible to remove herself from the situation. "Okay. Call whenever, I'll be free."

Jet smiled tightly for the millionth time that day and pulled open the door to step out into the still warm Florida air. She inhaled deeply once the door was closed behind her, her thoughts dragged to three different places – back inside the house with the argument with April, to Chicago where she'd left a heartbroken man, and to a nondescript arena in Bossier City, Louisiana with the other man she'd left behind.

* * *

So, whaddaya think? Who's being unreasonable about the divorce? Jet? Phil? Both of them? Neither? Is April right, is it wrong for Jet to still be texting Jon? I love hearing your thoughts!


	3. fireworks with a wet fuse

I think this chapter is what most of you have been waiting for - Jon puts in his return. Here goes...

* * *

 **Wednesday, January 20, 2016  
Orlando, Florida**

"Oh, good, you're up."

Jet flailed backwards, falling against the wall. Her hand grasped at her chest while her eyes searched for the source of the voice and she mentally prepared herself for a fight. Instead, her eyes fell on a face smiling at her from the couch.

"Boss? What the hell? Did you break into my house?"

"No, Sami loaned me his key," Hunter answered.

"You couldn't just call?"

"I did. You sleep like a log."

Jet pulled her phone from the pocket of her pyjama pants. Sure enough, she had three missed calls. She also noted that it was only 7:12 a.m. "What the hell could you possibly need that would warrant sitting like a creep in my living room at seven in the morning?"

"We've got a busy day. Come on, get ready."

She groaned, leaning her head back against the wall she'd not-at-all gracefully attached herself to when she thought she was about to be attacked by a burglar. "We do? It's my day off, I intended to do nothing but eat ramen and watch DuckTales."

"DuckTales? Really?"

"I enjoy DuckTales."

"Well, too bad. We've got plans. Come on, you've got thirty minutes. Get dressed, eat, whatever."

She rolled her eyes but set about doing as he instructed. There was no way he was just going to go away. He stayed put on the couch while she sulked her way back into the bedroom to get dressed, and didn't even speak while she brewed a pot of coffee and used that as her breakfast. He did eye her disapprovingly for not getting some food in her body but he didn't try to lecture her when she began pointedly humming the theme tune to DuckTales. He practically herded her out of the house when she was done, pointing to a black SUV in the driveway. It wasn't until they were on the road, clearly heading for the Performance Center, that Hunter finally turned briefly to look at her and spoke.

"You're looking good."

"Thanks."

"How you feeling?"

"Same as last time you asked."

"Okay, good. So, your return date…"

Jet smiled to herself, keeping her eyes ahead. Every single one of his phone calls eventually drifted right back to a desperate inquiry into when she'd be ready for her main roster return. He'd allowed her plenty of time after the official clearance from the doctors but this was getting insane. She was cleared in late-November and they were now rapidly approaching the Royal Rumble. He'd heard plenty of reports from Matt Bloom and Sara Amato that, despite Jet clearly being in the best physical shape of her career, she was much happier to remain outside coaching the rookies rather than begin shaking off the ring rust.

Jet didn't have any good excuses for him anymore. She hadn't played up the fake dizziness during training enough for it to be believable. She just wanted to stay in Florida where her world seemed so much smaller and safer. Rather than admit she was being a giant baby about the whole thing, she had been coming up with progressively more ridiculous reasons for being unable to reclaim her spot with the roster. Unfortunately, Hunter hadn't bought her insistence that she actually resided in Finland these days, or the stories about losing a leg in a shark attack, getting stuck underneath a fallen fridge for four days, mysteriously contracting smallpox, and having to travel to Mexico to save her brother who had been kidnapped by a cartel.

"Ah, see, I'd love to come back but I just can't."

Hunter glanced at her from the corner of his eye, a small amused smile tugging at his lips. He'd never admit it but he kind of enjoyed the weird and wonderful things she was coming up with. "Oh, really? Why is that?"

"Well, the thing is…" Jet scrambled; she'd run through most of her prepared excuses, "I'm getting deported."

"Yeah? What for?"

"Uh, I committed a horrible crime so they're getting rid of me."

"What crime?"

"It's so horrific that I really don't think I should say. I wouldn't want to traumatise you."

"I didn't take you for a hardened criminal."

"Well, you never really know a person," she shrugged, offering him a broad smile.

"I gotta give it to you, you never fail to be a pain in my ass," he muttered. "Come on, throw me a bone here. We are _limping_ toward WrestleMania. I need you back."

She felt for him, she really did. It seemed like the injuries didn't stop coming. "I'll be at WrestleMania," she promised. That was still over two months away, she was sure she could work herself up to that. Hunter was obviously aiming for a Rumble return and she just wasn't ready at all for going back that weekend.

"With no build?"

"Those are the best kind of returns."

"Shane misses you. You should be thanking me, I'm keeping him from coming down here himself. You wouldn't be able to hold off when he really gets started. He can talk anyone into anything."

"Thank you for keeping Shane out of Florida," she replied promptly.

Hunter paused momentarily. "Is there something that you're not telling me? Something bothering you about the main roster?"

Jet chuckled, turning to him with an incredulous expression. "I've made it clear to you how I feel about a whole lot of things. I think the way you're booking Joe isn't doing the company or Roman Reigns any favours. I think the lack of Women's Tag Titles is a damn shame. I think it's fucking bullshit that the football players signed to NXT get double the base salary as the people who come in with years on the indies. There are a lot of things about this company that grind my gears, boss."

"Don't mince your words, Juliette, tell me how you _really_ feel," Hunter grinned. "For what it's worth, I pitched the idea of tag titles for the women."

"And?"

"Vince said he'd think about it."

Jet rolled her eyes. "That means no."

"Is that all that's bothering you? Stuff about titles and unfair pay? It's nothing to do with Jo—?"

"No," she cut him off. "I'm not trying to avoid him, if that's what you're thinking. Honestly, it's about the ring. I'm rusty and I've got this thing about bumping and I'm just not _ready_ , okay?"

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"You could have told me that from the start. I understand. I can't just let you hang out down here to see out your contract but I can help you out."

"Coach and Sara already are." It wasn't a lie. They knew the problem and they were working with Jet to overcome it. Unfortunately, it was far more a mental block than a physical one. She'd begun very slow paced matches with Sami but they had purely focused on chain wrestling and jumps. Bumps were nowhere in sight.

"Good. Keep at it, you'll get there."

"And if I don't?"

Hunter chuckled. "I'll make you."

She didn't like the sound of that. She stared out of the window rather than look at him, refusing to let him see on her fact that she wasn't so sure it was a problem that could be resolved by simply 'keeping at it'. When they pulled into the Performance Center parking lot, Jet reached into the backseat for her gym bag but Hunter didn't move. He was staring at her intently, clearly not ready to go inside yet. She paused, her fingers curled around the handle of the bag, before sighing and settling back in her seat.

"Whatever you want to say, just say it. Honestly though, if this is about Jon, I promise that I really am not avoiding him. We talk. We're fine."

"It's not. It doesn't matter really, none of my business."

She sighed even louder, making sure he heard the frustration in it. He would say it was none of his business and then make it painfully obvious all day that he still wanted to talk about whatever it was. Better to just get it over with. "Please just say it. If I don't want to talk about whatever it is, I'll tell you."

"Alright… I heard you were in Chicago a couple of weeks ago."

Ah, she should have known. He was trying very hard to look casual but, despite attempting to back off in terms of micromanaging her problems for her, he couldn't entirely remove himself from the role of surrogate father.

"Yeah, I was."

Hunter grunted in annoyance, hating her deliberately vague answer.

"I have dogs there, ya know."

"And that's all you were doing? Visiting your dogs?"

Jet offered him an uncomfortable smile. "Well, not exactly. I went to see Phil."

"Oh? As in…?"

"No. Not like that at all. I went to speak to him about a divorce."

"Oh!" he exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise. "Uh, sorry? Or not sorry? Is this an 'I'm sorry' situation?"

"Not really. I mean, I know you're not sorry anyway, you've never liked him."

"Hey, I may not see eye-to-eye with the guy but if you two turned out to be the best thing for each other, I'd have been happy for you."

"It doesn't matter anyway. I want to file, he won't sign."

"What do you mean he won't sign? He can't do that."

Jet chuckled mirthlessly. "Unfortunately, he can. Our marriage has to be beyond a hope and, since he's still adamant it can be salvaged, we have to be separated for two years before a judge will sign off on it." She shrugged halfheartedly. "It's whatever. If I have to wait two years, I'll wait two years."

Hunter leaned over to squeeze her shoulder. "Proud of you for taking control of this. You're doing well."

She smiled tightly. She didn't feel very in control. "Thanks."

He finally got out of the car, heading for the main entrance to the Performance Center. One of Jet's favourite things was watching the faces of the newest signees when they realised that Triple H was in the building. He had quite the habit of making unannounced visits and it never failed to amuse her how terrified they all seemed to look when they spotted him. She had been that nervous around him once upon a time.

"I need to go talk over some plans heading toward Dallas, I won't be long. Then we'll start our day."

Jet watched him head toward the office, still not knowing what their day was actually going to consist of. She sidestepped past the rookies who were eagerly trying to look like they were working harder than they'd ever worked in their life, and made her way to where Sami and Fergal were running through moves in one of the practice rings. She jumped up to sit on the apron, smiling lazily.

"Morning boys."

Fergal checked the clock on the wall. "Bit early for you, no? Matter of fact, isn't today your day off?"

"Yeah, that's what I thought too. Speaking of, you're not supposed to just give my house key to people," she shot at Sami.

Sami shrugged. "He's the boss. Figured he probably wasn't going to massacre you or anything. What did he want?"

"To harass me. Apparently he'd got a jam-packed day for me to look forward to. And, of course, he had to nag a little more about when I'm going back on the road."

"Oh, yeah? What was your excuse this time?" Sami grinned.

"Deportation."

"Good one," he nodded in agreement. "I still like the one about moving to Finland best."

"Me, too. Unfortunately, I wasn't very convincing when he asked me to demonstrate some of the Finnish that I had undoubtedly learned during my residence there. I garbled out something about fish and he totally didn't buy it."

"No commitment to the cause, Juliette," Fergal tutted. "You shoulda Rosetta Stone'd it."

"Does Rosetta Stone even have a Finnish course?"

"I'm sure Finland would be very offended if they didn't."

Sami sat on the middle rope, inviting Jet in. He managed to get her in there most days for at least a short run around. He was the only one who really hadn't pushed the issue of bumping. He'd given her a short pep talk when then problem first became apparent – insisting that she'd be absolutely fine and she could _totally_ do it – but had left it to her after that. To be fair, everyone around her was being remarkably patient. She knew that if one of the rookies refused to take a simple back bump, she'd have zero time for dealing with that. They'd be out the door just as fast as they came in.

Jet was half-refereeing, half-interfering in Sami and Fergal's match when Hunter re-appeared from the offices. He watched from the sidelines as Jet jumped up on Fergal's back, locking in a loose sleeper hold. The Irishman easily flipped her over his shoulder but Hunter didn't miss how her hands scrambled out to grasp Fergal's shirt in order to ensure she remained on her feet rather than take the bump. When she landed safely, she noticed him and immediately exited the ring.

"Right, so what are we actually doing today?"

Hunter unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled his sleeves up his arms, then pointed her toward the production rooms. "Well, if you're not going to be in the ring yet, I'm gonna train you up elsewhere. You're gonna learn how to produce.

Jet sighed but resigned herself to her fate – she was never getting a real day off.

* * *

Ironically enough, learning what went into the production of a NXT show – which she knew would not be anything like the scale of a Raw or Smackdown, but was a great lesson nonetheless – was pretty enjoyable. Hunter walked her through each stage and set her up at the centre of a fake show right there in the Performance Center. He insisted that it wasn't just a good chance for her to get to grips with the backstage elements of a show, it was also a great opportunity for some of the rookies to have a chance at putting on a show, albeit without the Full Sail crowd.

After covering the more literal production side of the show, Hunter wanted to go over the road agent aspect of producing. That was even better for her. He did have to gently remind her to scale it down a little – after all, not many rookies could pull off a Phoenix Splash – but he was pleased overall with how the half-speed matches came together, with Jet talking through her headset to the referee.

"You're a natural. You considered doing this when you're done with the ring?"

Jet smirked. "Are you sure you won't have had enough of me by then? At this rate, you'll not see the back of me until one of us is dead."

"I would pay good money to see the day you're head coach down here and absolutely losing your mind." The buzzing of his phone distracted him, undoubtedly reminding him of other business he had to attend to. "Well, I've gotta get going. I'll see you Sunday."

"Sunday?"

"Yeah, the Rumble. You're coming, no excuses. It'll give you a feel for the place again."

Jet pulled a face at him. It would be the first main roster show she'd attended since SummerSlam. She wasn't quite sure how it would go facing people she hadn't seen in months, especially as most of them hadn't been left on the best of terms. She knew what Hunter was thinking, though; maybe if he could just get her to one show, she'd get over herself and kick her ass into gear for her return.

"Uh, okay. Yeah, I can do that. I'll see you on Sunday."

Hunter looped one arm around her while still holding his phone in the other, pulling her into a quick hug. He stepped back and offered her a warm smile. "You really are looking good these days."

She understood exactly what he meant – _you look happy_. "Yeah, I feel it."

He winked as he walked backwards toward the door. "Keep it up!"

As soon as he was gone, Sami was looping his arm around her shoulder and directing her to the door. They had an ice cream date to get to. "Your face!" he laughed. "Honestly, when he told you that you have to show up for the Rumble, I thought you might literally scarper into a hole."

Jet backhanded him in the stomach with a pout.

"Ouch. Come on, that hurt."

"I barely touched you."

"Still hurt."

"That's because gingers feel more pain. Science."

"That is _not_ science," Sami scoffed, holding open the passenger door for her.

"No, it is. Legitimately. I read that somewhere."

"Yeah, on the back of a cereal box."

"I don't read my cereal boxes. Matter of fact, I don't eat cereal."

"Yeah, your breakfast consists of coffee these days. That's not healthy, you know. It's the most important meal of the day, you should actually _eat_ something."

"Stop mothering, Sami. I don't like doing my yoga on a full stomach."

He chuckled. "I never thought I'd see the day that you voluntarily took up yoga."

It was true, Jet used to pull faces at the thought of it. She'd learned her lesson though; during the time her injury kept her from doing any working out, she found that yoga was a good replacement. Even when she was cleared to use the gym again, she kept up her morning routine. It was good for her flexibility and would undoubtedly help in the ring. Not to mention, it was the quietest time of her day.

She shrugged as he pulled out of the parking lot. "What can I say? I'm a changed woman."

* * *

 **Sunday, January 24, 2016  
Royal Rumble  
Amway Center – Orlando, Florida**

Jet wasn't quite sure what she expected to happen when she stepped foot in the Amway Center. Maybe for everyone to stop and stare at her? For whispers to go around? For the other girls to shoot her death glares? She was assigning herself far too much importance. No one had time on such a busy night to even spare her a glance. Fergal gave her a gentle push in the bottom of her back to get her moving, pointing at the makeshift signs directing the way to Hunter's office. He had called her just before she set off, asking her to spare a few minutes for a meeting. He wouldn't say what about but she figured it would be his latest attempt to talk her into a return before April.

"Hey guys!" Sami waved excitedly. He had left earlier for the production meeting about the Rumble match itself.

"Great," Fergal grinned. "Sami can make sure you don't get lost on the way to Hunter's office, and I can go get some food rather than babysitting."

He wasn't concerned about her losing her bearings at all; they all knew that she was just liable to not head toward the office and find a nice quiet corridor to occupy instead. She had no desire to listen to another impassioned plea for a return, or come up with a ridiculous excuse.

"Sure thing!" the Canadian agreed. He was even more buzzing than usual thanks to his part in the night's show. He all but dragged Jet down the corridors in his haste to get moving, but she could see a slight show of apprehension on his face despite his happy exterior.

"Are you nervous or something?"

"Huh? What?"

"You seem a little… jittery."

"Uh, no." He paused down the hallway from Hunter's office for the night, offering her an awkward smile. "I just… I may or may not have done a thing."

"A thing? What thing?"

"A thing like accidentally tell Jon about your divorce stuff. I'm sorry!" he added hurriedly. "It really was an accident! He was asking if you'd come in with me and I just completely spaced and told him that you had to hang back for a while because you needed to speak to your lawyer and filing next week, and he asked what I meant, and I just told him because I totally forgot that it was a secret. I'm sorry."

Jet chuckled, completely alleviating his concern. "Hey, don't sweat it. It's not a _secret_ exactly, I'm just not telling everyone about it. It's fine that you told him, I probably would have anyway. Besides, he'd be able to tell. The guy has freaky powers of intuition."

"Okay, good," Sami sighed in relief. "Well, you should probably go see him after you've spoken to Hunter. It's obvious he's missed you."

"I will," she promised. She hadn't intended to avoid him; after all, she'd missed him too. "Just as soon as Hunter has finished lecturing me for the ninetieth time about how I need to get my ass back here on a full-time basis." She stepped up to the door, pulling an overly dramatic face at him. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck!" he called, walking backward away from her as she rapped her knuckles on the door.

"Come in!"

Jet pushed the door open, pausing in the doorway when she saw two faces looking at her instead of one. "Oh, sorry. I can come back later."

"No, no," Hunter countered, waving her in. "We're just about done anyway, come on in."

She stepped up to the desk, halting again when AJ Styles stood rapidly and offered her his hand. "Hi, I'm Allen."

Hunter could read the look on her face expertly. It was the exact same expression she had when she had met him, and Undertaker, and Steve Austin. He smirked to himself, eager to see if her time away to better herself had also allowed her the chance to figure out how to act around her childhood heroes on first introductions.

"Yeah, of course. I'm Juliette, it's lovely to meet you."

Hunter was going to give her credit for playing it completely cool as she shook Styles' hand, but then her mouth was opening again.

"Actually, we kind of met once."

AJ looked interested. "We have? You'll have to forgive me, I'm not sure I remember that."

"No, you probably wouldn't. It was forever ago, 2004."

His eyes narrowed a little, trying to think back. "In England?"

"Yep, you had a thirty-minute Iron Man match for FWA in Coventry."

"Yeah, yeah, I remember that. You were on the card?"

"Oh God, no. I was fifteen. Only my home promotion would book me back then. I convinced my dad to take me that night and I talked my way into being allowed to stay a little longer after the show. I kind of hunted you down, not gonna lie. I told you I was in training and I swear you looked at me like I was insane. You must have been thinking, 'who in the hell is training this tiny infant?' But you were so cool. You said some really awesome stuff that stayed with me, and invited me into the ring so I could show you what I knew. My dad nixed that, but I never forgot that you took the time for me. I didn't have much of a chance to say it at the time so, thank you."

AJ smiled broadly, nodding his head. "No problem. I'm honoured that I made such an impression. Maybe one of these days, now that we're in the same place again after twelve years, we can actually get in the ring together without your father here."

Jet practically vibrated with excitement. "Oh, wow, _yes_! That would be awesome! I'd love that, wow, yeah, totally." The giggle that escaped her was horrific, forcing her to clear her throat awkwardly. "I mean, whenever you've got time, obviously, don't even think on it. We'll figure something out sometime, no big deal."

His smile turned into a chuckle as he reached over to shake Hunter's hand and then reached for Jet's again. "You're on the injured list at the minute, right? You let me know when you're cleared and we'll try something out. It was nice to meet you, again." After a quick goodbye with Hunter, AJ was leaving the room and allowed Jet to slump into the seat he had vacated.

Hunter was smiling in amusement at her. "That was so smooth right until the end."

She groaned, dropping her hands over her face. She really thought she held it together well to begin with but the offer to get in the ring with him was as ridiculously exciting now as it had been when she was a teenager. She just couldn't help but slip straight back into fan-mode. "He's gonna think I'm a weirdo."

"No, he won't. It was cute."

"I'm a dork."

"That's true."

Jet opened her fingers to glare at him. "Thanks."

"You said it."

"And it was very unkind of you to agree. I come here out of the goodness of my heart because you wanted to talk and all I get is abused."

"You're very dramatic, do you know that?" Hunter asked sarcastically.

"It has been suggested once or twice."

He shook his head and began rooting around the many wads of paper on the desk in an effort to hide his smirk. Once he'd gone through them all, he sifted one out and dropped it loudly in front of her. "Here."

Jet looked at it in surprise then picked it up curiously. "What's this?"

"New contract."

She lifted her eyebrows. "For me? My deal isn't up until October."

"I know, I just figured it was a good time to start talking about it. Wanna get you locked down before you have any crazy ideas of going back to Ring of Honor or PWG."

She smirked. "Is this because I was in Reseda last month? You think I've been bitten by the freedom bug?"

"Hey, you can't blame a guy for being worried. I know you're your own boss there."

She shook her head. "As much as I love the place, I'm happy here."

"Are you?" Hunter asked seriously. He did wonder if, after so many weeks of fobbing him off with excuses for not returning to the roster, maybe she wasn't happy and was hoping to just see out her contract so she could leave. A new one was the perfect way of testing the waters.

Jet smirked, looking down at the contract before she stashed it under her arm. "I'll give this a read-through. I mean, it might not be good enough to tempt me," she drawled teasingly. "I might need more."

"You don't even know what's in it yet. I could be offering you a five million dollar deal."

"Are you?"

"No."

She grinned. "Well then, maybe I'll be asking for that. And a better merch cut. And _streamers_."

"Streamers?"

"Yeah," she nodded eagerly. "My PWG trip reminded me how much I miss the streamers. I'm gonna insist that you allow the fans to bring streamers to events."

"Not happening."

"Am I gonna get any ridiculous request?"

"No."

She sighed dramatically. "Fine. I guess whatever's in here will have to be good enough."

"Is that a yes?"

"I'll give it a cursory read. I trust you enough to believe you haven't put anything in here that will bother me. No nudie photo shoots, right?"

Hunter laughed, shaking his head. "Nothing nude. We're a PG company, Juliette."

"Well then, we're probably good. You want me to fax it to HQ when I've signed?"

"Nah, I'll be at the Performance Center next week, just bring it in then."

She nodded. "Got ya. Am I good to go or do you need something else?"

Hunter hoped his smirk wasn't obvious, acting as if he didn't know the exact thing on her mind. "You're good to go."

With the contract firmly under her arm, Jet left the office and set off in search of the guy she really had waited too long to see in person. Like Sami had said, he missed her and she missed him. It was about time they rectified that. She exchanged polite smiles and hellos with some of the people she passed, and go waylaid momentarily by a very excited Bayley who seemed to assume that it meant Jet was making her return that night. Once she had disappointed her friend with the correction, Jet extracted herself with the promise that they'd grab lunch sometime that week and have a long chat.

Jet skirted a little sheepishly past the women's locker room. Besides Bayley, she hadn't seen any of them yet. Things had seemed to be left on relatively okay terms after the visit in the hospital in Brooklyn, but she wasn't insane enough to believe that everything that had been said between them all was going to be forgotten in a heartbeat. Angry words aren't always true but they're certainly memorable.

It wasn't until after she'd knocked on the men's locker room to find it almost empty, and made her way close to gorilla, that Jet realised she had absolutely no idea where he was. She could walk around the Amway all night and not find him. She sighed and took a few steps closer to the monitor bay to ask for help.

Dean Malenko either saw her reflection in the monitor or had eyes in the back of his head. Jet was convinced it was the latter. "If you're not here to take part, I don't wanna see you," he muttered gruffly.

Hunter wasn't the only one of her case lately about a return; Malenko and Fit Finlay had made their fair share of calls, inquiring about her physical condition. It only took a quick once over from Malenko for him to know immediately that she was in fine shape.

"I'll be out of your sight in a split second," Jet promised with a smirk. "Have you seen the other Dean?"

"Ambrose? Saw him 'bout ten minutes ago down there getting ready," Malenko replied, nodding his head behind them both. "Couple of lefts and a right. Dark hallway, can't miss it."

"Thanks."

"Juliette!"

She paused as she walked away, glancing over her shoulder. "Hm?"

"So, when do you think? Fast Lane?"

With a chuckle, she shrugged her shoulders. "'Mania."

"WrestleMania," he scoffed, shaking his head. He'd be incredibly surprised if she managed to hold Hunter off for that long. "Juliette," he called again when she began to leave again.

"Yes?"

"Don't mess him up, okay? He's got a big night tonight."

She paused momentarily, biting the inside of her lip. If Dean Malenko – the person most uninterested in others' drama on Earth – had brought it up, she could only imagine what everyone else around the gossip heavy locker rooms were thinking. "I just want to say hello."

Malenko smiled but it looked as though he thought Jet was a complete moron, in the nicest way possible. "That's enough to mess that boy up."

She couldn't say anything to that. She could hardly deny it, not when they'd both been messing each other up for months without even meaning to. "I'll be careful with him, I promise," she replied, hoping it sounded light.

"Good girl."

Malenko let her leave after that, not calling her back for anything else. Jet followed the route he had told her – couple of lefts and a right – keeping her eyes peeled until she saw a familiar sight. He was in his ring gear, casually stretching on the floor with his legs pushed out as far as they'd go and his face turned toward the floor. He saw feet approach first, a red pair of flats that stopped directly in front of him. His eyes panned up, falling on the face he'd missed for so long.

He got to his feet immediately, staring straight into her eyes. He didn't move. As the seconds ticked by, he noticed the slightly anxious expression take over her face. He tried to wait, to let her squirm just a little to see if she'd speak first, but when she stayed silent he couldn't help himself. His grin stretched across his face as he leaned back casually against the crates stacked behind him.

"Well, your sweet face has just cured my January blues."

She finally smiled. It was small and a little nervous but it was a smile. "I've never known you to get the blues."

"With you gone? I'm blue all day, sweetheart."

"Stop it, you'll make me feel guilty."

He flashed her that boyish grin. "Will making you feel guilty get you to bring your cute ass back on tour?"

"Please, you could not possibly try to guilt me more than Hunter already has. _Please Juliette, I don't have a roster left, they're all dead!"_ she mimicked. "He's so dramatic sometimes."

Jon laughed, shaking his head at the impersonation. "That sounded nothing like him."

"Close enough, no?" she grinned, barely even noticing that neither of them had even bothered with a hello. Despite four months apart and everything their last meeting in September had left up in the air, they fell back into such an easy and casual relationship, as if no time had passed at all.

"No, it was awful. Absolutely freakin' terrible. You've lived here for years and still can't get the accent right." He paused suddenly, looking over her shoulder. Jet glanced around too, noticing the small huddle of production assistants and runners pretending to be looking anywhere but at them. Jon scoffed, "We're still the talk of the town. Come on," he nodded his head away from them, further into the unused areas of the Amway Center.

It got darker as they moved but neither of them minded. They'd sat down cold, dark corridors with each other enough times to be used to it. Jet was the first to slide down to the floor and Jon followed suit opposite. There was a brief moment of silence again while he took in that she really was there _finally_. He had been starting to wonder if she was ever coming back, if he'd pushed her away completely.

"What's that?" he asked after a moment, nodding his head at the stack of papers still under Jet's arm.

"New contract."

"Oh, definitely planning on coming back, then?"

"Been thinkin' bout it," she shrugged nonchalantly. "Kinda liking this whole 'don't do anything but relax by the pool all day' thing, though."

"You should."

"I should lay by the pool all day?"

"You should come back," he clarified. "I miss you," he added after a pause. It was the first thing either of them had said that really meant anything. He looked away as soon as he'd said it, busying himself with moving his hair from his eyes, fearing that she wouldn't say it back. She seemed to be so well in Florida, maybe she truly didn't feel the need to return.

Jet stared at him while he pretended to be casual, suddenly struck by her pure adoration for this man. This man who had managed to worm his way into her heart without her even noticing, this man who had given her everything she ever needed when she didn't know what those things were herself, this man who let his ring bravado drop whenever she was around and flashed her that dimpled smile, this man who still somehow seemed to think that she didn't simply love everything about him.

If anything, it made her feel guilty. Guilty that she hadn't shown him enough over the last few months how much he meant to her. Guilty that she was even having those feelings while in the process of a contested divorce. She had been working on alleviating herself of those feelings of guilt over the last few months. After all, she deserved to be happy even if that meant being with the man she had cheated on her husband with. It wasn't an ideal situation but it was the one she found herself in. It wasn't always as simple as reminding herself that guilt would do nothing to change where she was, but Jon's face seemed to make it easier.

She scooted across the floor, propping herself against the wall beside him. His arm moved practically subconsciously, looping around her shoulders so she could rest against him. "I miss you too," she told him sincerely. "More than you can probably imagine."

"Don't think so," he chuckled lightly. "It's not just me, Ambrose has been missing you too."

"Oh, has he? I think he's doing alright by himself. I mean, Hunter and Shane have heard some stern words about certain aspects of the booking, but Dean Ambrose is hanging in there just fine."

"You've been watching?"

"Of course I have," she nodded. She, Sami and Fergal often had sleepovers on Raw and Smackdown evenings, shouting all over each other about the things they'd do differently, or why Wrestler X absolutely should go over Wrestler Y, and _when in the world_ was Sasha Banks going to get that title? "Saw you drop rather unceremoniously to Colby, saw him give it up when his knee blew, saw Joe get it despite the fans being _very_ loud about their feelings on the matter. It's all been a little bit of a clusterfuck these past couple of months, to be honest."

"I guess poor Dean Ambrose just isn't as over without you," Jon teased.

"Of course, that's what it is," she replied drily. "What it is, is that the majority of Creative doesn't have one good storyline to share between the lot of 'em. You're suffering from a lack of Jet-fuelled main event blockbuster ideas."

"Jet-fuelled," Jon repeated with a chuckle. "Good one. You been working on the puns while you've been gone?"

"That one was accidental. I tell ya though, my nickname lends itself to some really great wordplay."

He smiled, relieved to hear her sound to carefree. It had been a long time since that was the tone of her voice. "I've missed you but I certainly haven't missed that dumb sense of humour."

"Jeez, when you think you like a dude, he goes and takes jabs at your awesome jokes."

"Sorry, sorry."

The quietness descended over them again. They both knew they had a lot to talk about, much more serious things than they'd covered so far, but neither of them were in a rush. Jet was content to do nothing more than lay her head against his shoulder and delight in the realisation that they could still just be _this_ with each other. He didn't say a word while Jet checked her buzzing phone and replied to Sami's text asking if she'd found him. She slipped the phone back into her pocket, settling herself more comfortably in the crook under Jon's arm. He idly fiddled with the hair lying over her shoulder and felt her smile against him.

"Y'know, I've heard a lot about you while you've been gone."

She was impressed with how long he'd managed to hold off on asking. "Oh, yeah? Like what?"

"That you're getting a divorce. I, uh, heard it on the grapevine."

"Would that grapevine be ginger and wear a stupid hat by any chance?"

Jon grimaced. "No?"

Jet lifted her head and grinned wider, letting him know no one was on the hook. "It's okay, Sami told me he spilled the beans. Nice of you to try to cover for him though."

"Dude's your best friend, I don't wanna get him in shit with you. So, it's true?"

"Sami's not much of a liar."

"Wow. Uh, since when?"

"Well, I told Phil about it in November. I can file next week, then it's a matter of getting him to agree. It's slow going."

It was a tense situation, Jon could tell that much from her face. Her grin slipped and her jaw tightened a little. He couldn't say he wasn't thrilled to hear the news but he also knew that it wouldn't have been an easy decision for her to make. It would be pushing his luck to press on the issue when it was obviously a sore spot. He didn't want to ruin what had been a good reunion thus far.

"I heard other things, too," he continued, stepping away from the divorce subject entirely.

She looked surprised at that. "Other things?"

"Yeah. I heard you and Adam Cole are a thing now."

"Did you? From the internet, I assume?"

"You know me, I'm not one for the Twitter gossip. Colby mentioned something about you being in Reseda with the PWG gang and some pictures and stories. It all carried from there. When something makes the rounds enough…"

"Everyone starts to believe it, yeah, I know. For the record, Adam and I are most certainly not dating. Nor am I dating any of the other seventeen people that have been bandied around. I'm pretty sure I even saw Hero's name thrown in there."

Jon snorted. "Chris Hero? And you? Well, your luscious blond locks would certainly look lovely together."

Jet shoved him in the shoulder. "Hero knows how to treat a lady."

"He would not have the slightest clue what to do with _you_."

"That sounded insulting."

"Darlin', that was the highest compliment. You're more than most guys would know how to handle."

"But not you?"

Jon paused, turning his head toward her with his bottom lip pinched between his teeth. They hadn't touched on _them_ really, on what her divorce meant for them, or how things would be when she came back. "You _know_ not me."

She tilted her head slightly. She opened her mouth and then closed it, instead getting to her feet and holding out a hand to him. "You're on first, right? You and Kev?"

Jon had forgotten all about it. He cleared his throat, taking her hand to pull himself up. "Uh, yeah. Twenty-minute Last Man Standing."

Jet refrained from making a mother hen comment about him also being in the Rumble and being overworked. He'd only laugh anyway; he was one of the guys who didn't see how he could possibly be overworked. He loved it too much. He looped his arm around her shoulders as they walked slowly back toward the noise of the arena, thinking better of keeping hold of her hand. She had very deliberately not continued their conversation about _them_ , so she obviously didn't want to make anything of it that night. He understood; she wasn't back on the road yet and they'd be apart as soon as he was in Miami for Raw.

He had to ask her one more thing, though. The one thing that mattered most, before they were back in the hubbub. When the brighter lights starting appearing in front of them and they could hear the quick footsteps of the employees rushing to ensure everything was ready for the start of the show, he pulled her to a halt. She looked up into his eyes.

"Are you happy?"

The brief moment of confusion made way for a sincere smile and nod. "As happy as I've ever been. Things aren't _perfect_ but they're pretty close." Then, with a sly grin, she added, "I mean, I'm totally best friends with AJ Styles now, and it doesn't really get much better than that."

"Oh, are you? Does he know that or are you just stalking him?" Jon asked, beginning to walk again.

"If he doesn't know yet, he will soon. I mean, until Shinsuke Nakamura gets here anyway. Then he'll be my best friend."

"Really? He seems a little weird."

Jet laughed, shaking her head. "There's some irony in you thinking that when you literally play a guy nicknamed the Lunatic Fringe."

"Does he speak English or is your whole friendship going to be based on sign language?"

"How do you know I haven't learnt Japanese in my time off?"

Jon quirked an eyebrow. "Have you learned Japanese in your time off?"

"No."

"Well."

"I don't know if he speaks English, we'll find out. But he's going to be my best friend anyway."

"So you've said. How does Zayn feel about that?"

"Sami is happy to share, he's a good boy."

"And Half Pint?"

"April thinks all my life choices are terrible these days so…"

"Oh?" Jon asked in surprise, his eyebrows rising slightly. "You two having trouble?"

"Not _trouble_ as such," she shrugged. She relayed to him everything that had been said between the two of them on the night she returned to Florida from Chicago. Truthfully, they hadn't spoken much since then so the harsh words exchanged had been stuck in her memory.

"Ouch. I didn't know she thought so little of me," he muttered. "It's not true, for the record. Whatever she said about me getting bored or the novelty wearing off or whatever… that's not true."

"I know. Ignore her, she's been grumpy since she broke up with Ferg."

"Oh, they broke up? Sucks for her."

"Hm," Jet agreed. Neither of them had said much to her regarding the break-up and she really didn't want to know. She didn't need someone else's relationship drama on top of her own. She did know that April's mood hadn't improved in the almost six weeks since it had happened, though.

She could feel eyes on them when they began to walk through the populated corridors. Even those who were clearly in a hurry to get where they were going slowed down to eye them with interest, every single person noting Jon's arm around her and the way she was practically plastered into his side.

Jon noticed too but, rather than worry about what the latest gossip and social media rubbish about them would be, he smirked at every passing person and held her that little bit closer.

* * *

With her feet folded underneath her on the chair, Jet watched the monitor closely as Joe made his way out to the ring to begin the Rumble match. She was very pointedly keeping her attention on the screen to stop herself looking at Shane. He had taken a seat beside her in the last few minutes and did nothing but stare intently at the side of her head. Finally, when the stare got too intense, she smiled innocently at him.

"Hi. It's nice to see you."

"Are you avoiding me? Do you hate me? Have I offended you in some way?"

"What? No."

"Come back."

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"Come back permanently. _Come on_ , you can't keep this up much longer."

With Hunter's warning that Shane could convince anyone of anything ringing in her ears, she turned her attention back to the monitor and made sure not to look at him again. "I'm working on it," she stated simply, closing out the conversation.

Shane stared for another few moments before huffing in defeat and leaving to round up those needed for the Rumble. Hunter gave her a nod to tell her she'd handled it well enough and they both continued to watch the progressing PPV. Jon departed gorilla immediately after his match with Kevin in search of food, water, and peace and quiet before he had to go back out at number nineteen. He quietly promised that he'd see her before the night was over, though not quietly enough for Hunter not to hear him and have to hide his smirk. He didn't say anything but Jet could tell from his face that he felt pretty smug.

Rusev went out at number two to start off the match but Jet's attention was pulled away from the screen by the noise of feet scuffing along the floor behind her. She glanced over her shoulder, seeing AJ Styles pacing around. She nudged Hunter in the arm and nodded back at the Georgian, quirking her eyebrow up.

"Uh, you doing okay there?" she asked.

AJ looked up in surprise, apparently forgetting he was surrounded by people. "Oh. Uh, yeah. I'm good." He chuckled uncomfortably to himself. "You got any advice?"

Jet lifted her eyebrows. "AJ Styles asking _my_ advice. Welcome to the Twilight Zone."

"You've done this already, I haven't. Kinda don't wanna mess it up."

"Um, don't trip over your own feet on the way out?"

"What if they don't know who I am?"

Hunter snorted into his headset while Jet levelled the veteran with a bemused expression. "You're kidding, right?"

He shifted anxiously again, obviously feeling the big moment pressure. "If the screen flashes up 'I am Phenomenal' and the whole place is dead—"

"You're insane."

 _"Fifteen seconds, Styles!"_ Michael Hayes yelled from somewhere amongst the bodies.

"You're up, pal. You'll be fine."

AJ shook himself out and stepped close the curtain. Jet saw Hayes lean in close to whisper in his ear and then his new music was hitting. At just the right moment, AJ stepped out and the roar of the crowd could be heard in every inch of the building. Jet turned back to the monitor, watching as he successfully didn't trip over his feet on the way down to the ring to face up to Roman Reigns.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing they know who he is," Jet remarked dryly.

Hunter rolled his eyes. "Yeah, we were all so worried," he deadpanned.

Jon reappeared just before Hunter left. The Ohioan hung over the back of Jet's chair to see the monitor, looking somewhat refreshed and ready to put in half an hour in the Rumble. Hunter glanced at the two of them from the corner of his eye, saying nothing but adopting a smug expression. He got to his feet just a few moments later, insisting that he really had to go and get changed and warm up for his role in the Rumble. For someone who was about to become a fourteen-time world champion, he seemed remarkably uninterested in actually being in the match. It was clear to anyone that saw him these days that he was becoming much more focused on his backstage responsibilities than actually getting in the ring.

"Owens, thirty seconds! Ambrose, two minutes!" Malenko yelled, a little after Braun Strowman headed through the curtain at number seventeen.

Kevin and Sami were standing close behind Jet and Jon, quietly discussing exactly how Kevin's elimination was going to go. It was a constant rotation through gorilla as each new participant went out and those eliminated came back through. The next thirty seconds passed quickly and Kevin made his way out, leaving Jon up next. He stood up and stretched out his muscles again, only pausing when Jet gently poked him in the stomach.

"Uh, I'm having a little get together at my place tonight. It'd be nice if you came."

"Are you sure?" he asked. He didn't want to make a spectacle out of anything.

"Thirty seconds, Ambrose!" Malenko called over, eyeing Jet pointedly. She hadn't forgotten his gentle warning from earlier.

"Of course I'm sure. Wouldn't offer if I weren't. I'm probably going to head out just before the show ends to beat the traffic, so just follow Sami. It's not too far from here."

Jon nodded and, in a fit of over-exuberance, leaned forward to peck her on the corner of the mouth. She couldn't even playfully scold him when she saw the way his eyes had lit up.

 _"Ambrose, ten seconds, get your ass over here!"_

"Uh, I think you're up. Malenko's about to pop all his blood vessels."

He nodded again, finally heading over to the curtain to hold off the impending expletives from Malenko. When Jet looked over at where Sami was waiting in line for his entrance, he was grinning at her. Hell, so were Erick Rowan and Mark Henry behind him. She thanked the Heavens that Brock, who was up at number twenty-three, wasn't there yet.

"Shut up," she muttered in Sami's direction before biting her lips together to hide a smile.

"I didn't say anything!" he protested with a laugh.

"I can hear you thinking it." She turned all her attention back to the monitor, watching Jon get into it with those still remaining in the match. She could hear Sami's laugh all the way until his music hit and he disappeared through the curtain.

* * *

These two can't go long, huh? Next chapter will be the little get-together at Jet's place, I won't jump over that. _Plenty_ happens.

Thoughts? Feelings? Let me know!


	4. you are my favourite what if

So, here we have part two of Royal Rumble night. It sets the scene for more things than one so I hope you guys enjoy.

* * *

Jet didn't really want to call it a _party_ but there wasn't another word for it. She had a full blown raging party going on in her house. The house that sat right in the middle of a pretty large retirement community. The house that was only supposed to be hosting a calm get-together of the people she hadn't seen in too long.

Instead it seemed word had spread around the locker room that her door was open, and a fair chunk of the roster decided to show up. She really didn't mind; there was plenty of space and she enjoyed seeing them all. Everyone was gracious enough to find her as soon as they walked through the literal open door. For the NXT kids, it was just to say hello and let her know they were there. For the main roster guys and girls, it was to actually speak to her, to thank her for the invite (that she hadn't actually given most of them) and see how she was. She was pleased to find that all the girls that she'd had problems with who showed up were wonderfully friendly. She couldn't quite say that everything was in the past but clearly the time away had given everyone enough time to clear their heads and think more rationally about what had happened. They were on the road to recovering friendships and that was all she could really ask for.

Speaking of recovering friendships, Corey entered the house close behind Enzo Amore. He made a beeline for Jet immediately, wrapping his arm loosely around her shoulders and leaning down to kiss her forehead.

"Hey babe."

"Corey, glad you could make it. Us crazy kids not getting too much for you in your old age?"

It was so easy with him again, like they'd just left everything in the past. A lot of her life felt like that now. After she went to Canada for Christmas, Corey all but confronted her about why she didn't want to spend the holidays with him. When Jet explained that she was trying not to impose, both of them realised they'd been idiots. They promised to leave what had happened in the summer behind them and start afresh. It was yet another huge weight off her shoulders.

"Watch it, kid. This old man can still kick your ass."

"Try it."

"Don't tempt me." He glanced around the living room, feeling a little claustrophobic. "Just a little hang-out, huh?"

Jet shrugged. "I'm wildly popular, it can't be helped." Thankfully, she had stocked up for this possibility with plenty of food and drink.

Corey chuckled and ruffled her hair, earning a high pitched protest and slap at his hands. "You're sounding a lot more…"

" _Confident?"_ Jet suggested.

"Up your own ass," Corey teased. He got another slap, in the stomach this time. "Yeah, confident. Happy, relaxed, whatever. Good. You sound good."

How many people had said that to her recently? "Yeah, I feel it. Dealing with problems, y'know, taking notice of why I act certain ways, learning how to process things better, that whole shebang. Life on the road isn't really conducive to deep introspective analysis. Life in Orlando by the pool, however, _perfect_ for it. Now, if you'll excuse me, old man, I have other guests to greet," she winked.

"Right, because you're so popular," Corey replied drily.

Jet flicked finger guns at him as she walked backwards. "You got it, pal."

Most of the next thirty minutes was spent say hello to everyone who trickled through the door from the arena. She was dragged away from greeting duty by Sasha and Bayley who insisted she start breaking out the alcohol. They wouldn't let her leave the kitchen until she'd joined them in a couple of shots and, by that time, it seemed like most people were already there. Jet's eyes scanned the room for Sami's ginger head, figuring Jon would be close behind him, but apparently they hadn't arrived yet. Kevin had just made his way in, however, so Jet assumed Sami wouldn't be far behind.

"Juliette!"

She turned to look back into the kitchen, where the girls had set up a game of flip cup. Carmella was waving her in but she held up her hands to beg out. She figured that, as the host, she was contractually obliged to stay sober enough to keep an eye on everyone.

"Oh, come on! It's girls versus guys, don't let us down!"

"You'll all do fine by yourselves. I gotta go make sure the boys aren't breaking anything."

Paige protested loudly but Jet simply shrugged her shoulders as if there was nothing she could do and headed out into the living room. A bald head came through the door, prompting Jet to scoot her way through a dozen bodies in the way and throw her arms around Claudio.

"Mon chou!"

Claudio fixed her with a grin and raised eyebrows. "You speak French now, huh?"

"Ha, no. Sami's been teaching me a little. I'm even picking up some Arabic from him. He loves it when I call him habibi."

"Of course he does. He's a sucker for you," he rolled his eyes. He glanced around the packed house, "Well, you're popular."

"That's what I told Corey. He implied otherwise."

"He's just jealous."

"I thought so, too. He can't handle that I—" Jet froze, staring over Claudio's shoulder.

He glanced over his own, keen to see what had stumped her into silence. When he saw Sami coming in, he was massively confused. As much as the two loved each other, the Canadian had never caused Jet speechlessness before. It wasn't until a shaggy head followed behind that Claudio understood. He turned back to look at her, keeping his face remarkably neutral. She recovered fairly quickly, stumbling over a couple of words for just a moment before finding them again.

"Uh, what was I saying? I'm getting old, I keep losing my train of thought."

Old. Yeah, that was it. "Corey's jealous of your popularity."

"Right, right. He is and I'll stand by that. Um, if you'll excuse me, I should go say hi to Sami. Haven't seen him since he went out for the Rumble, I need to congratulate him."

"Of course, I'll catch up with you later."

Claudio remained close to watch the scene play out in front of him. Jet made a very careful point of going to Sami first and hugging him tightly, likely whispering congratulations in his ear. Jon stood back a few feet, his eyes flittering around the room as he took stock of who was there. If anyone thought anything of Jon Good showing up to Juliette Brooks' house, none of them made any indication of it. Those from the main roster did clock his presence, nodding politely at him, but no one from NXT even spared the guy a glance. Jon wasn't under any illusion that they hadn't heard about it all, they obviously just really didn't care. No wonder Jet liked being down there so much.

When Jet stepped away from Sami, he discreetly moved to stand beside Claudio. The two of them watched as she turned her attention to Jon. The slight delay while they stared at each other, neither knowing quite what was appropriate, had Sami and Claudio both grinning at each other. They'd both known Jet for years and they had never seen her seem quite so… _teenage._ She'd always been small but that was just her stature. She looked younger than her age purely because of that fact, but she had never acted like it. Now, with her head tilted up at him and her feet shifting awkwardly underneath her, she looked like a fourteen-year-old girl with a crush rather than a woman of twenty-six coming off a failed marriage. Then she giggled. Jon had nudged her lightly in the arm to get her speaking, and she reached to hug him and was straight up giggling in his ear.

Claudio shook his head with a gentle chuckle before inclining his head at Sami. Sami didn't want to move, he wanted to watch this whole exchange, wanted to make sure everything went okay, but Claudio seemed insistent that they give them their privacy. As much privacy as it was possible to have in a house full of people, anyway. At least those people couldn't have been paying less attention. Sami sighed with a roll of his eyes and followed Claudio over to the kitchen to watch the flip cup game in progress.

"They've gone," Jon whispered in Jet's ear.

She grinned, "I know when they're staring, even if I can't see them. They're such mothers sometimes."

"They just care about you."

"I know and I love them for it. It's still creepy when they hover, though." She stepped back from him, noticing Nhooph with her eyes on them, smirking. "Uh, make yourself at home. There's food and drinks in the kitchen, help yourself. I've gotta make the rounds, be the gracious host, make sure no one's dead or whatever, but we'll talk later, yeah?"

Jon nodded firmly, taking that as a promise. "Yeah, sure. I'll catch up with you later."

Jet walked backwards for a moment, a little embarrassed at how she physically couldn't wipe the smile off her face. She finally turned, tucking her head down to hide a blush when she saw Tye Dillinger shoot her a thumbs up.

* * *

Jon had gone almost entirely unnoticed the whole night. He strolled around the impressive house, relieved to find that it wasn't obnoxiously fancy but an infinite step up from the bare bones apartment she used to have. This place was truly a _home_ , well furnished with all of her personal touches everywhere. Out in the hallway that lead to the staircase, all of her soccer memorabilia hung from the wall. He considered going upstairs to see how she'd decorated up there and how the layout was, but figured it was probably crossing a line. He returned to the living room, taking a seat in the corner. It was a good vantage place to people watch. While there were plenty of people from the main roster there, the majority of the guests were the NXT kids that Jon recognised but had never spoken two words to. He could see Fergal Devitt getting into a heated discussion about something with Cass, but the rest of them seemed to bundle into names and faces he couldn't put together.

"Hey, J, are you gonna let me kick your ass at Mortal Kombat again?" Chad Gable called across the room.

Jon couldn't see Jet through the bodies but he could hear her laugh. "No! There are only so many times I can be embarrassed. You guys are all welcome to the PS4, though. Have fun."

Her voice trailed away again as a few of the NXT guys went for the game console. Jon was still trying to spot her when he felt a nudge against his upper arm. Claudio was beside him, offering out the beer bottle he was holding.

"Nice place, huh?"

"Yeah, it's great," Jon agreed, taking the drink as Claudio sat down with his own cup of soda.

"You should see outside. The pool is great." He paused, glancing sideways at the Ohioan. "Wasn't sure if I'd see you here." His words were clearly loaded.

"Juliette invited me so…" he shrugged. "Is this the part where you give me the big brother shovel talk?"

"Shovel talk? Of course not, she's a grown woman who is quite capable of making her own decisions. I wouldn't dream of insulting her by suggesting I need to step in." Despite his words, Claudio's smile was unnerving. He leaned a little closer to Jon. "But, if I _were_ to do something like that, I'd tell you that she's worth the world and if you ever do a single thing that would upset her, I'll happily scalp you and make you eat it. But, you know, I don't need to say any of that."

Jon chuckled, taking a swig of the beer. "Nope, you don't. First, she's not my girlfriend. Second, even I'm not dumb enough to fuck that up."

Claudio rolled his eyes. "First, that's inevitable. Second, maybe."

"Nothing's inevitable."

"No, you don't think so? I think as soon as she's back on the road, whenever that may be, the two of you will be dating within the month. Sometimes, things are just supposed to happen, you know?"

Jon chewed on the pad of his thumb, his eyes subconsciously trying to search her out in the crowd again. It was much easier this time; Kevin Steen's voice was loud over the music, drawing attention to him. Jon could see Jet sitting beside him, almost doubled over in laughter.

"Innocent? You were never innocent!" Kevin exclaimed, obviously continuing from whatever conversation they were having. "You used to convince me I was using the wrong English words just to embarrass me!"

Jet held her ribs, trying to suck air in between her shoulder shaking laughs. "Oh God, I did, didn't I? I was such a dick."

"Yeah, don't make fun of non-native speakers, Juliette! You bully minorities!"

"You're not a minority!"

"I'm French-Canadian, we're a minority of the Earth's population," he defended.

"That's not what a minority group is, Kevin."

"Says the racist."

"You're white!"

Claudio chuckled beside him, bringing Jon's attention back. "I remember that," the Swiss nodded. "She used to do the same to me."

"Did you fall for it?"

"Sometimes. When I realised, I'd speak to her exclusively in German until she apologised."

"I'm sure she loved that."

"Very much. She learned a few words, though. Most of them swear words, of course."

"You guys have all had some good times." Jon was a little jealous, truth be told. A lot of the people in the room had known her a lot longer than he had. Not only had their indie paths never really crossed, he'd also put a huge distance between them once they were both in Florida. He regretted that now, regretted not making the most of all that time.

Claudio could read his mind. "We all have better times now. No need to cramp five of us in one hotel room, we can afford food, the company cover injuries…" He clamped his hand down on Jon's shoulder. "Now's the best time."

Jon's eyes sought Jet out again, his brain hearing a different meaning in Claudio's words.

* * *

Jet slowly made her way through the house, accepting every hug and smile offered her way, and conversing with whoever stopped her. She got away from most of them pretty quickly, continuing on toward the kitchen. She passed the couch on the way, where Chad Gable had shifted Cornelius the bear from his usual spot, holding him on his lap while Jason Jordan angrily bashed at the PS4 controls beside him.

"He getting you again?" Jet asked, leaning over the back of the couch.

"I'm gonna win this time," Jason stated firmly, his face set hard.

"Sure you are," Chad scoffed, just as he won another round.

"God dammit!"

Jet patted them both on the shoulder, heading around to go through the kitchen. It had thinned out a bit but there were still a few sitting around engaging in drinking games. Jet was relieved to see that they were all NXT talents; she didn't want an angry call from Hunter because she sent his workers back hungover. She smiled at them all as she made her way out of the backdoor, stepping out onto the deck. She took a deep breath, relishing the cool air and quietness.

She stretched out on one of the lounge chairs, staring up at the dark sky before closing her eyes. She quite liked hosting, as it turned out, but she also really preferred to be one of the people free-wheeling in somebody else's house. She'd have to keep these get-togethers well spread out. For now, she'd settle for some peace and quiet out on the deck. She had set up a rule at the beginning of the evening that no one was to go out back; she refused to be responsible for a drunk someone falling into the pool and drowning.

Her phone, tucked in her back pocket, vibrated against her butt. She twisted to retrieve it, seeing three texts waiting for her. She had one from Hunter asking her to be careful with everyone and make sure they got to Miami in one piece, one from Shane insisting that he'd be in Florida again soon and they'd talk, and then one from Phil.

 _I'm a little surprised you didn't turn up during the show since it was in your backyard. Is your head really okay? You've been off for a long time. Tell Hunter I said great job on the pure narcissism. He sure loves having that title, huh?_

Jet sighed. For nearly every Raw and PPV over the last couple of months, Phil had been texting her with his surprise that she hadn't returned yet. She didn't know if he was really watching the shows or just skimming Twitter for the necessary news. In either case, it was a shame he couldn't have done that when they were actually together. She couldn't remember the last show she'd been on that he'd taken the slightest bit of interest in. She tapped a very quick reply, not wanting to ignore him solely for the purpose of trying to keep him on side. After all, it was only five days until she could file the divorce paperwork. The friendlier they were with each other, the better the chance she had of getting him to agree.

 _ **My head is fine, just waiting for the right moment. I won't tell Hunter that at all.**_

She didn't keep her phone out to wait for a reply. If she did, she'd get dragged into a long conversation with him. She lifted her eyes to the sky again, trying to count the few stars she could see. She wasn't left to it for long, the sound of the door opening snapping her back to Earth. She glanced over, smiling softly at the dirty blond. She wasn't at all surprised that he found; he had a sixth sense for where she was.

"Hey."

Jon sat on the end of the lounger, looking out over the pool. "Hey. You hiding?"

"No. Just gotta take a breather now and then. Hosting is hard work."

"You seem pretty good at it, everyone's having a good time."

"Good, I'm glad. Are _you_ having fun?"

"Sure. Good beer, good company, what else could a guy ask for? I mean, besides for the host to be available for five seconds."

Jet glanced around, making a point of showing that it was only the two of them out there. "I've got five seconds."

"You sure? I can leave you to your thoughts if you want. You looked pretty tense when I came out here. Is something wrong?"

She smiled and shook her head. He was the very last person she should be discussing the dissolution of her marriage with. "Nah, nothing. Just tired. I've gotten quite used to early nights."

He didn't believe her for a second and she knew it. But, true to form, he didn't press her. He did, however, take note of the goosebumps running up her bare arms. "Are you cold? It's pretty chilly out here."

Jet half-shrugged. "It's not so bad."

Jon ignored her half-hearted denial and shucked off his hoodie. He draped it over her shoulder, moving himself a little closer. He lifted her legs, sliding under so his back was against the long arm of the lounger and her thighs draped across his at a right angle. "You're a bad liar, you hate the cold."

Jet chuckled, pulling the hoodie tighter around her body. "Yeah, you got me there." After a brief pause, she tilted her head at him. "Y'know, I never asked how you've been."

"Hm?"

"Earlier. It was the first time I'd seen you since September and I didn't ask you how you are."

"You know me, darlin', I'm always okay."

She fixed him with a knowing stare. "You don't have to be. I know I haven't been a lot of the time."

He shifted a little uncomfortably, not liking being the one under the microscope. "It's been… an adjustment. I went from having you around almost every day to not seeing you at all. And I understood that, I did. I know why you've been down in Florida, I know you've needed it, and I'm happy for you. But I've missed you. More than I actually thought it was possible to miss another person. Every single week, every pay-per-view, I thought Hunter would come find me, tell me that you were coming back that night and we'd have a meeting to talk about putting us back together and everything would carry on like it had been. Then, every week and every pay-per-view, you weren't there. I started thinking that it was me, that you weren't coming back because of me. You've been so quiet about Punk, about what was going on there. I thought you were going to go back to him and ask Hunter to let you out of your contract."

Jet furrowed her brow. "We've been texting this whole time, why wouldn't you ask?"

"Because it was better to live in ignorance and think you were just being nice when you kept in touch, rather than ask and hear what I didn't want to. I don't know if you know this about me, but I'm actually a massive coward. Where you're concerned, at least."

"Coward? I ran around telling lies and letting them pile up on me last year because _I'm_ a coward. You were the only person keeping me together."

"Well, someone had to do it, right?" Jon joked, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Sure, but that didn't have to be you. Hunter and Shane would have done it. You did because you're a good man."

"Speaking of Shane…" Jon segued. He needed to get away from this topic before he said something stupid like _I did it because I love you_. This wasn't the time and he didn't want to ruin the evening they had together by putting out the feelings that they couldn't really discuss until she was back on the road. "I saw that stupid bear in there. Can't believe you've still got that."

"Excuse you, Cornelius has a name. Why wouldn't I still have him? He was a loving gift from Shane."

"He was Shane's panic gift."

"Same thing."

Jon chuckled, shaking his head at her. "That day sucked. Like, _really_ sucked. Fuck, I remember that drive over from the Barclays Center to the hospital with Shane. He was trying to be the calm one, trying so hard to keep everything together, and I was just fucking losing it. I swore at him, kicked the shit out of the dashboard, pretty sure I actually threatened to punch him in the face if he didn't drive faster at one point. He was real good about it, never mentioned it again."

"He knows you didn't mean any of it."

"Yeah, I guess. I think he was freaking out too, just hid it better. He thinks you're fucking fantastic."

"Shane is an astute man."

Jon liked this side of her, the side that knew how to take a compliment rather than shy away from it. He lifted her legs up again, scooting even closer to her. Her butt practically sat in his lap but she didn't say anything about it. She barely even acknowledged that they'd moved. With his arm wrapped around her waist to keep her steady, the two of them fell into a companionable silence. He went right back to fiddling with the ends of her hair, trying to remember if it had been as short when she left. When he flicked a few strands, he saw something glint in the low moonlight. His fingers worked around to the front of her neck, catching on the angel pendant hanging there. His heart dropped straight into his stomach.

Jet watched him silently, understanding how he felt. The date had snuck up on her, letting her get into the second week of November before Sami noticed the necklace and innocently asked what the engraving was. She'd never spoken to the Canadian about the baby; the first he'd heard of it had been from Zahra's tweets. He went deathly quiet after she explained what the date of November 19 meant to her, not knowing what to say. She smiled tightly at him, assuring him that he didn't need to say anything. He didn't, she'd heard everything that could be said.

"I'm sorry."

"For what? You didn't do anything."

"Exactly," Jon replied. "I should have called, should have checked on you. That's not an anniversary to go through alone."

"I didn't want any of that. I hung up on Phil when he tried. We've talked, y'know? I've talked to him, I've talked to you. What's the point? It doesn't change anything. It still hurts, it probably always will, but it was the right thing. What would I have done with a kid, huh? I'm not ready for that. You weren't ready, Phil wasn't ready. In the long run, everything in my life has actually worked out for the better. Gotta have some faith that the Universe knows what it's doing, right?"

Jon couldn't quite understand how she figured that it had all worked out for the better. Her life had been one long rollercoaster of _fucked up_ since she'd relocated to the United States. Even with all that considered, she looked so at peace. Despite everything in the long list of mishaps and injuries and traumatic events, she had come out of it with her head on straight, a smile on her face, and surrounded by friends and family who loved her endlessly. He supposed maybe the Universe did have something worked out.

* * *

Someone must have told everyone to leave her alone. That was the only explanation Jet had for not being interrupted for close to an hour. She figured Fergal and Sami were holding down the fort inside; it was practically their house by that point, too. They spent as much time there as she did. Instead of worrying about who was ensuring her possessions didn't get destroyed, or that no one got paralytic, Jet was perfectly content to stay right where she was, still practically sitting in Jon's lap, without a care in the world. After all, his shoulder was so very comfortable.

"You smell like coconut."

She didn't bother glancing up. "My shampoo."

"I know. You've always smelled like that."

"You sniff me a lot?" she chuckled.

"Only when you're not paying attention."

"Did that not sound so creepy in your head?"

"No, it sounded completely creepy. You don't—" He was cut off by her phone buzzing for at least the tenth time. "Are you gonna get that?"

"No," she replied firmly, pulling it from her pocket to toss onto the other lounger. She had absolutely zero inclination to be guilt-ridden that night. She was having a nice time, whether she should have been having it with him or not, and she wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.

"Someone bothering you?" Jon knew exactly who it was. All she had to do was say the word and he'd be in Chicago, or Milwaukee, or wherever the hell her estranged husband was, and he'd _make_ him sign those papers.

"No," she repeated, "I've just got better things to do right now."

"Like?"

"Like hang out with you. You think an hour here and there makes up for not seeing you since September?"

"Your guests will start wondering where you are."

"So?"

"So, uh…" Jon was struggling to find a reason that either of them should care, especially when she moved her head until her nose was gently tickling the stubble under his chin. "You should…" The smell of her hair was creeping up his nose again and she was so _close._

"I should…?"

"You should probably move a little," he groaned, shifting his lower body.

Jet was suddenly very aware of him. For all her comfort, she had been shifting against his waist a lot. She made to move away, only for Jon to grab her hips when she tried. "What?"

"Just because I said you _should_ doesn't mean I actually want you to."

She smiled mischievously, leaning back against his chest. "You just like trouble, don't you?"

"Well, I like you and you are _literally_ the human embodiment of it, so yeah. I mean, I got in a lot of trouble by myself back in the day, but you are something else."

"Oh please, I am nothing compared to the legendary Moxley stories! Though, Moxley and Madden might have been quite the team."

"I think we're a better team now," he countered, lifting his hand up to stroke her cheek. "Two of a kind, huh?"

Jet felt like her voice caught in her throat and she was unable to to reply for a moment. She finally managed a nod and a shaky, "Yeah."

It was one thing to lay back against his shoulder, to forget the number of people in her house, to pretend they could just do this without any kind of backlash. It was something else for him to touch her like that, so gently as if she might back away if he used more than the lightest of caresses. When he was sure that she didn't want him to back off, he gently grasped her chin to turn her face toward him. His eyes flickered to her lips and back up. She was staring at him with wide eyes but hadn't made a move to leave.

"Do you want me to stop?" he whispered, leaning his head close until they were only centimetres apart.

"No." She knew she _should._ For both of their sakes, she should have gone straight back inside, but that wasn't what she _wanted_.

"Good," he smiled, his dimples on full show.

Jet closed her eyes in anticipation, trying hard to remember what kissing him felt like.

"Hey, J, Gionna wants—" Sami froze as he stepped out onto the deck. The cosy scene was quite the picture but not one he was supposed to walk in on. Jon leaned back with a sigh while Jet shot her friend an exasperated look. "Uh, sorry. When you're ready, most people are heading out, but Gionna wants to speak to you first."

"Yeah, sure," Jet nodded, her voice taking on a slight bite of frustration. "Tell her I'll be there in a second."

"Will do," the Canadian smiled, shooting a furtive glance at the two of them again before heading back inside.

She turned back to her lounger partner, shrugging her shoulders helplessly. "There's not a chance in hell we're getting any more privacy out here. Talk about the cliché moment killer."

Jon smiled, trying his best not to show his disappointment. "Hey, we'll have other moments, right? You'll be back on the road sometime."

"Sure, sometime," she agreed vaguely. That still hadn't been set in stone. Neither had the other massive obstacle in her life, the divorce. Everything was rushing back to her — the prospect of a drawn out legal process, her bumping fear, the selfishness of letting Jon get so close when she didn't really know where either of them stood… She was setting herself up for more problems. She had worked so hard to correct her life while in Orlando and now she was already piling things back on. She had to take a breath, evaluate where everything was, and figure out a responsible next step.

Jon could hear the uncertainty in her voice so he chuckled easily, always instinctively wanting to ease the tension. "So, you're pals with Zucchini's friend now?"

"Zucchini isn't even a blip on my radar anymore. But yes, Gionna and I are friends. Remember when the two of us took training at the PC and I offered to help her with her promos? She took that pretty seriously. As soon as I got there, she kind of adopted me as her mentor. She's a sweet girl but she insists on asking me face to face every few days if I'm free for training. Maybe she thinks I'll ignore her if she just calls instead, I don't know. What I do know is that she won't leave until she gets an answer, so…" she trailed off, pointing toward the door to the kitchen.

"Right, right."

Jon helped her up, holding her steady as she climbed off his legs and onto the ground. He followed close behind her, setting himself on his feet and straightening his clothes. As soon as Jet got inside, Gionna was directly in front of her. Jet took a step back from the enthusiastic fellow blonde, almost colliding into Jon's chest. Gionna paid zero attention to him, instead focusing entirely on Jet.

"Are you _sure_ you'll be in training tomorrow? I mean, you might have a hangover or something, and I can totally make plans with Sara instead, if you want."

Jet smiled patiently. "Gionna, I promise you I will be there at the same time I am every day. Don't worry about it."

"Okay, if you're sure," she nodded with a broad smile. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

Jon was wide-eyed when Gionna departed for the door. "Wow. She's very… eager."

"That's Gionna at her calmest. Last week, she brought me a list of moves she'd like me to teach her. I kid you not, the Canadian Destroyer was on there."

"No way? Insane."

"That's what I said. She was pretty disappointed when I reminded her that she's still green as grass and has absolutely no business going anywhere near a flip piledriver. Ever, really."

"I bet that went down well, coming from _you_ ," Jon chuckled, leaning back against the marble counter.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jet questioned, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You're a girl who had absolutely no business going near most of the moves you do, but you've made a career out of it."

"I've also been doing this since I was thirteen years old."

"Hey, I'm not telling you to stop," he insisted, holding his hands up innocently, "I just mean that, once upon a time, I'm sure there were people who told you that you shouldn't attempt any of the shit you do. Not to mention, you forget that I saw you down in FCW. I saw you trying to convince them to keep all your old moves. That Dragon Suplex got banned pretty quick, huh?"

Okay, maybe he had a point. Unfortunately, his point did little to poke fun at her safety hypocrisy, it just reminded her how much more variety she used to have in her move-set before she was signed. She sniffed arrogantly, "They just didn't want me showing you guys up more than I already did."

Jon chuckled and nodded, "Oh yeah, that was definitely it. It had absolutely nothing to do with the potential for concussions or broken necks."

"Excuse you, I have never once given an opponent anything more than a black eye. I'm safe as fuck."

"So, why haven't you taken the back bump yet?"

Jet's mouth dropped open as he shot her a 'got you' smirk. She hadn't seen that segue coming at all. "Did Hunter put you up to that?"

"Maybe. Point stands, though. You trust yourself with a move that could spike someone on the top of their skull but you can't take the simplest of bumps. Where's the logic there?"

She clamped her mouth shut. The truth was, she knew there was zero logic in it. That was what made it a phobia – it was entirely irrational. She groaned, knowing she had no decent excuse to offer him. Her head dropped forward, resting against his chest. "I'm gonna have to retire. I'm gonna be the woman who retired at twenty-six because she couldn't fucking bump to save her life. I'll fade into obscurity and only be remembered as that weird chick who fucked up the second biggest show of the year. That's my legacy."

He laughed, gently stroking her back. " _Or_ you'll get over it because you know it's ridiculous, have a long and storied career, and retire as a Hall of Famer."

She rested her chin on his pecs, looking up at him uncertainly. "Well, yeah, that sounds like the better plan."

"Good, so do it. Get your ass back in the Performance Center tomorrow and remind everyone there exactly why you're the queen."

"I've missed your pep talks."

He twisted her around, his hands on her shoulders pushing her back toward the populated living room. "When you're back, you can have as many as you like. C'mon, your guests are waiting to say goodbye."

It was a long process at the door. Everyone stopped to say thank you and goodnight, none of them batting an eyelid at Jon standing beside her as if he were the co-host. Claudio paused for just a moment, looking up and down at both of them, then continued on as if nothing was out of the ordinary. The only one to have an audible reaction was Fergal; he laughed under his breath before thanking Jet for a lovely night. Everyone eventually filed out, leaving behind just Sami and Jon. Sami grinned innocently from the couch when Jet looked pointedly at him, making it clear he wasn't going to leave for them to have a moment in private. Jon didn't seem to mind much.

"So, uh, I better go," he said reluctantly. "I mean, the hotel room is paid for and everything and I really have to get to Miami tomorrow."

Jet nodded, appreciating that he was ending the night on such an easy note. Inviting him to stay over was just opening up a can of worms that she wasn't yet prepared to deal with, especially with Sami still there. "Call me when you get there, okay? Just so I know you didn't die on the way or something."

Jon's thumb was running over his own fingers, feeling the impending end of the evening. He looked over at Zayn, seeing the Canadian still grinning at them. "Yeah, I'll do that. Uh…" he trailed off, wondering if Sami was just waiting for the right moment to intervene. He seemed to enjoy it out on the deck. Before the redhead could get involved, Jon leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Jon."

She watched until he had disappeared into the dark. When she closed the door and leaned back against it, she exhaled heavily enough to make her hair flutter. Her eyes went to Sami.

"Enjoying yourself?"

"Oh, very much. You two are like teenagers."

Jet rolled her eyes, grabbing a few empty cups that littered her counters on the way to the garbage can. "Just say what you want to say and get it over with. Or, y'know, you could go home. To your house. That is literally ten minutes away."

"Nah, I'll stay here," he beamed, kicking his legs up onto the coffee table. "I know you love my company."

"I'd love it more if you stopped bullying me."

"You're the bully in this relationship. Speaking of relationships…" he trailed off.

Jet rolled her eyes. He wasn't at all as smooth as he thought. "I am not in a relationship with Jon."

"Sure looked like it out on the deck."

"We were just talking."

Sami barked with laughter. "Talking? What you were doing wasn't _talking_. You practically melted into him!"

She shoved his legs out of the way and stepped through to take the opposite side of the couch. "You like tormenting me too much."

"I just like seeing you happy, J. I mean, you've been happy down here for a few months but when I walked out there and you were looking at him, it was just _adorable_. Like, you had that old Juliette smile, the one from right after I got signed and you were just absolutely ecstatic all the time."

Jet remembered. The first half of 2013 had been a great time for her, before her call up to the main roster. She'd settled into Florida so well by then, it was really home, and she was finally beginning to get over everything that had happened in the years prior to being signed to FCW. It had been slow going so when she could finally get through a day without her thoughts once going to the crisscrossing scars on her back or the face of the man in the back of her mind, she made the most of it.

She could feel a blush creeping up her cheeks. "We were just talking," she attempted again, despite knowing Sami wouldn't ever buy it.

"Juliette, it's okay if he makes you that happy. I hope he makes you that happy. You don't have to feel guilty about it."

She sighed, flopping forward to lay on his legs. He reached out to lightly pat her head. "I _do,_ though. It's okay while he's here, while I'm with him I don't think about anything else, but then it all comes rushing back. I know I'm technically single now but I'm still legally married. I have a husband who I still care so much for but there's this guy who I just can't shake that _what if_ about, and it just makes me feel like I'm still doing what I was last year, stringing them both along."

Sami took her hand in his, squeezing reassuringly. "If serving Punk divorce papers is stringing him along, then we have very different ideas of what that phrase means. You've made it clear what you want."

She wasn't so sure she had. She grimaced as she looked up into Sami's face, knowing she had to admit her sin for him to have the whole story. If there was anyone she trusted with the truth, it was the guy beside her. "Uh, I slept with him."

Sami lifted his eyebrows. "Jon? On the deck?"

"Oh my God, _no_. Phil."

He pulled a face. "When?"

"Like, a week before I served the papers. It was early November, I went out to see the dogs. He wasn't even supposed to be there and, I don't know, we were just talking. I don't even remember how it happened, it just _did_. He has a way about him that makes it hard to resist."

Sami frowned. "So you had sex with your husband and then almost immediately asked for a divorce. Okay, yeah, I can see where the mixed messages are coming from."

Jet hid her face with her hands. "I didn't mean to. No matter how much I know that divorce is the best thing for both of us, I miss him. I miss the domesticity of it all, I miss knowing I'm going home to someone."

"You don't miss the arguments. You don't miss the time spent in different cities. You don't miss the difficulty."

He always knew exactly what she needed to hear. "No, I don't. I just wish things could have been different."

"But, they're not. Instead, you're here in Florida, getting cozy with another guy."

Jet finally smiled again when Sami brought the conversation back around to Jon. "He reminds me how _easy_ things really can be. I just… when he's around I don't worry about anything."

"I would say that you've got yourself in a muddle, except it isn't one at all, is it? You're divorcing one guy who you think of as difficult and almost making out with another who makes the world feel easy. Sounds pretty simple to me."

"It's never that simple."

"No, you have a stunning talent for complicating even the most straightforward of things."

She shoved him in the ribs, forcing up a scowl onto her face. "I liked you much better when you wore that mask and spoke broken English. You weren't nearly so rude."

"You liked me better then, even when Paul London and I made you corpse during a promo so much that you bit your lip until it bled?"

"Okay, I can't even be blamed for that. You corpsed during those too. Peligro Abejas is still the single funniest thing I've ever witnessed. PWG should have known better than to put me in the same room as you guys."

"That is true. That guy… I don't even know where half the stuff he said came from."

Jet laughed, swinging her legs over the edge of the couch to stand. "Neither does he, I'm sure." She offered Sami a hand, pulling him up too. "Thanks for the talk, Sam-a-lam. I can always trust you to lay things out straight for me."

"Of course you can. Here it is as straight as I can make it: Push for the divorce. Don't sleep with Phil again. Allow yourself the things and people that make you happy. And, for the love of all that is holy, clean this place. It looks like a frat house."

Jet laughed, shoving him again. "You could help if you're planning on staying."

Sami looked down at his non-existent watch. "Well, wouldya look at that? It's late, I should go home."

"Sami."

"Love you, Juliette, goodnight!"

* * *

For the record, Peligro Abejas really is one of the funniest things I've ever seen. If you haven't had the pleasure, you should YouTube it.

Anyway, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Anything you want to see more of? Less of? Let me know!


	5. slowly coming back to life

I'm sorry I've been so shitty about replying to reviews lately. I promise I'll do better. As always, thank you for the response to the last chapter, I love hearing from you guys.

* * *

 **Tuesday, February 2, 2016  
Performance Center – Orlando, Florida**

Jet thumped her fist furiously on the mat, growling to herself. Sami stood five feet away, grimacing at her. She pushed herself back to her feet and leaned against the ropes, staring helplessly at him.

"This is never going to work."

"Of course it will, you just have to relax."

"I'm _trying_. It's impossible. Every time I think I've got this, I just tense up again."

"Would it help if it weren't me in here? Maybe I'm being too easy on you."

He had a point. Every time Jet tried to take a bump and freaked out, he caught her effortlessly. It wasn't in his nature to let her panic. The closest they'd got to any kind of bump was when she just fell down on her ass in frustration. On the other hand, she wasn't sure how many people she trusted to help her take that first fall. Fergal, maybe, but he was busy in a meeting. Sara would absolutely make her go at it until she got it right, but she was in charge of the training session for the female rookies. She'd tried with Johnny Gargano when he'd last been at Full Sail but even he couldn't get through that block.

She was doomed to never be able to bump.

"I don't know what's going to help, really. I'm just _thinking_ too much, you know? I'm telling myself it's fine but every time I go to actually do it, that weird survival instinct kicks in and I catch myself. I mean…" she trailed off, waving her hand at Sami's ripped collar. On one of their failed attempts, she'd desperately grabbed out for him to save herself, and had torn a long line down his shirt. He waved it off without so much as glancing down, but she felt terrible.

"Maybe we should just leave it for today. You're stressing yourself out and it's making it harder. Let's get back to it tomorrow with a clearer mind."

"We're leaving for Memphis tomorrow."

Jet had started travelling with the NXT contingent after Royal Rumble weekend. She was pretty sure it was Hunter's doing, but Coach Bloom had been the one to approach her on the Tuesday after the event and tell her, in no uncertain terms, that she was going to make herself useful and travel with them. She ended up with a headset on, relaying instructions to the referee. She enjoyed it, at least.

"Alright, so after we get back from the mini-tour."

"Yeah, sounds good."

"Good. You wanna go grab ice cream?"

He would never not be predictable. When in doubt, offer ice cream. She wondered if that was the Sebai family policy. "No, thank you. I think I'm just gonna hang around for a while. Besides, Ferg came in with me. If I leave, he's stranded."

"Okay," Sami nodded. "I'll see you at the airport tomorrow?"

"Sure thing."

She didn't move while Sami gathered his things and left. With no one to work with and nothing to do until Fergal was finished with his meeting with the office, Jet re-took the ring and focused on some light yoga. She didn't have her mat, or clothes to change into that weren't already sweaty from her session with Sami, but it'd do. Besides, the Performance Center was relatively quiet and she'd take advantage of that.

Until her phone buzzed loudly and startled her out of her concentration. She was mid-Pigeon pose so tried to reach out for the device, only to put a painful amount of strain on her bent left leg and hip. She hissed at the discomfort as she straightened herself, grabbing the phone from the apron. She had a text waiting for her and, despite the new ache in her previously injured hip, she smiled.

A picture of Jon pulling a goofy face popped up on her screen followed by a line of text: _To brighten up your morning!_

She tapped out a reply quickly. _**Ah, I miss that charming face.**_

 _I don't get a photo back?_

She laughed and rolled her eyes but tapped the front camera and snapped an equally ridiculous picture. _**Sure, here.**_

 _Well, I was hoping for something a little different, if you catch my drift._

The smirking emoji surprised her; he'd clearly gotten better at texting since she'd first forced it on him. The tone on their texts had changed since the Rumble. Before, they had just been casual check-ins twice a week at the most. Now… now they were having fun.

 _ **I learned from my co-workers' mistakes. No nudes of me floating around.**_

 _Dang it. The internet ruins everything. Maybe I'll just make a pit stop in Florida when I'm down with Smackdown instead._

Jet really didn't doubt that he would. She also knew it wouldn't be good for either of them. Short bursts of being able to hang-out would only make it that much worse when he had to leave for the road again.

 _ **Terrible idea. Mostly because I'm not going to be in Florida tomorrow.**_

 _Oh? Where are you going?_

 _ **Memphis. The mini NXT tour starts on Thursday.**_

 _No way, really?_

Before Jet could reply and ask why he was so surprised by the tour, he was calling her. She leaned back against the ropes and answered. "Hello. To what do I owe the pleasure of a phone call?"

" _Are you seriously going to be in Memphis tomorrow?"_

"Yes. What's going on, what's Memphis got to do with anything? I'm not back on tour, if that's what you're thinking. Bumping is still going _terribly_ and I don't trust myself to get—"

" _No, no, it's not that,"_ he cut in to her blabbering _. "_ I'm _in Memphis."_

"What?"

" _Yeah, that's where I am right now. Smackdown's at the FedExForum tonight."_

She laughed to herself, her mind going back to their conversation on her deck about the Universe knowing what it was doing. "Well, how 'bout that?"

Jon tried to make his voice as casual as possible, _"Y'know, I could stay here. Cancel my flight home and stay in Memphis until it's time to head for Calgary."_

Jet had already convinced herself that it was a bad idea for them to spend a brief amount of time together. After all, she had divorce proceedings to work through and those really required a clear head, not a head clouded by thoughts of another man and when she'd see him again. If she stayed firm on the idea of not seeing him in person until she returned to the main roster, that would give her time to do as much for the divorce as possible, without the question of _them_ looming over her.

On the other hand, who was she to argue with what the cosmic powers clearly had planned for her?

"Yeah, I'd like that," she agreed. After all, wasn't that what Sami told her? _Allow yourself the things and people that make you happy_.

If they had been on FaceTime, Jet would have been treated to the most ridiculous grin anyone had ever seen. _"Great,"_ Jon replied brightly. _"Lunch date?"_

She should have corrected him on his usage of 'date' since she knew he meant it in a much different way than Sami did when he brought up ice cream dates. She absolutely should not be dating while the divorce was ongoing. She wanted to look squeaky clean in front of the judge. Instead, she smiled to herself. "Yeah, that sounds good. I'll let you know when we land and we'll figure something out."

" _Yeah, that sounds perfect,_ " Jon agreed. Then, reluctantly, continued, _"I better go. Joe's grumping at me to go work out with him. I'll see you tomorrow, sweetcheeks."_

"See you tomorrow," she reciprocated, smiling to herself.

She stared down at her phone once they'd hung up, wondering just how they'd gone from a playful text conversation to a two-day Memphis meet-up in the space of ten minutes. She also had no idea how she was going to explain to Hunter – or Sami and Fergal, for that matter – why she was out and about Memphis all day without them giving her that stupid smirk. She really was in for it but she somehow couldn't care less.

"Well, someone doesn't look busy."

Jet looked up, smiling at Matt Bloom. "Always got a busy mind, Coach."

"It's idle _hands_ that are the devil's playthings, Juliette."

"I'm an angel."

"You expect me to believe that?" he chuckled. "Come on, get your ass moving."

"And do what? Hardly anyone else is here."

"Go run the ropes," he ordered.

"Run the ropes?" she repeated, her eyebrows rising. "Like you have the rookies doing?"

"That's what I said. Good to know your hearing is still impeccable," he grinned.

Jet rolled her eyes playfully but grinned as if butter wouldn't melt. "Yes, sir, Mister A-Train, sir."

"Good. Off you go."

She knew exactly what this was. Hunter had told them to treat her like a newbie until she grew so tired of it that she agreed to head back to the main roster. It was a good plan, even if they didn't factor in that she was as stubborn as they came and would run the ropes for hours just to make a point. She stripped her shirt off and dropped it on the apron, cushioning her phone in it. She was lucky Coach hadn't taken that from her; trainee or not, phones were a no-no out of the locker room.

She wasn't quite sure how long she bounced off the ropes. Long enough for Fergal to finish in his meeting and her back to go numb. The Irishman approaching the ring with a laugh.

"Well, this is just insulting," he grinned, leaning his elbows on the apron while she paused in the centre of the ring. "You been doing this long?"

Jet glanced up at the clock. "Eh, a while."

"Thirteen years in and you're running the ropes again. Hilarious."

"I'm sure it's Hunter's doing. He's trying to aggravate me into finally showing my face on tour again."

"Ah. Bumping still not going well?"

"Nope," Jet answered simply.

"So, you're just gonna run the ropes for the rest of your career?"

"Sure."

Fergal shook his head. Both of them knew she'd soon enough get bored. It was in her blood, she couldn't survive on just refreshing her basic skills.

"Come on," he smiled, holding her shirt up to her. She took it and her phone, rolling out under the bottom rope. Fergal froze as she turned, his eyes falling on the lines of bruising across her back. They weren't just the standard red marks from rope burn, they had turned deep blue and purple. "Holy shit, Juliette. What the hell have you done to yourself?"

She tried to look over her shoulder. She couldn't see what he could, just the top of the dark colours. "Whoops. Guess I was going a little too hard."

"We're from the isles, love. We're pale and bruise like peaches."

"I've got some arnica cream at home, it'll be fine."

"Not if you keep running ropes like you've got a death wish. I know that you're frustrated about bumping, but putting all that energy into catapulting yourself across the ring won't do any good."

"Yeah, I know," she muttered. She felt a little like a scolded child. "Can't do much else, though."

"Bumping _will_ come back. I mean, come on, it's just a case of letting yourself fall."

That was the saddest thing about it, it really _was_ just a matter of going backwards. "I know but I literally cannot seem to do it. I start falling and I either grab something, put my hands down, flip over, anything to stop my head going anywhere near the mat."

"I'll piledrive ya, if you want. Once that's out the way, can't get any worse, huh?"

"Shockingly, I think I'll pass."

"How did I know you'd say that?"

"I stopped listening after piledrive."

He looped his arm around her neck, tugging her toward the door. "Put your shirt on, woman, we are classy people."

Jet snorted, "Sure, if you say so."

Once they were outside (and fully dressed), Fergal insisted it was far too nice a day for them to go straight home. They drove around until they ended up at Disney Springs, setting in for a late lunch at Morimoto.

"You getting a starter or no?" Fergal asked.

"Heck yeah. Buddy, the Hamachi tacos are _fantastic._ "

"You often come to Disney for lunch?"

"Yes," Jet shrugged. "What's the point of living in Orlando if I don't spend all my free time here?"

They were almost immediately descended on by a bright faced waiter. They both ordered enough food to feed a small army but Fergal had to talk Jet out of ordering the Morimotini because "really Juliette, Grey Goose and sake at two in the afternoon?"

"Does this make you miss Japan?"

Fergal's face looked legitimately pained as Jet dropped her sashimi. "Not when you're butchering that, it doesn't," he grumbled and leaned across the table to correct her finger placement on the chopsticks. "Just move the top one, Juliette."

"I'm trying." When the salmon slipped again, she sighed and dropped one of the chopsticks, preferring to just spear the fish.

"Your etiquette is awful."

"Buddy, we're in Disney Springs, not Tokyo."

He rolled his eyes playfully. "We've been here for half an hour and all we've talked about is fish and booze."

Jet settled her chopsticks down and rested her chin on her hand, fixing Fergal with all her attention. "What would you like to talk about, darling?" she teased.

"You're a very sarcastic woman, you know that?"

"I do. Really though, go ahead, talk about anything."

"Have you heard anything from your lawyer?"

Jet grimaced. "Except that."

Fergal had found out about the situation the day before she was legally allowed to file her petition. She was a ball of nerves that day, anxiously making call after call to ensure all the paperwork was completed how it should have been. When she'd all but run into him on her way out of the PC, Fergal steadied her and asked where the fire was. She didn't have the energy to make up an excuse for him, so she told him flat out. He wasn't at all surprised – especially not after seeing her with Jon on the night of the Rumble.

"Ah, that bad?" he asked sympathetically.

"We have a hearing on the seventeenth. Phil filed a motion to dismiss."

Fergal's eyebrows rose. "Can that work? The judge won't fall for that, right?"

"My lawyer says no. He said it'll take up more time and money but ultimately it would only work if I had filed under fault grounds and it could be disproved. I know Phil, he's going to drag this as long as possible. I don't care, if I have to wait another eighteen months, I'll wait that long."

"Hopefully it won't take that."

"Yeah, hopefully."

"Will your lawyer be there?"

"No. He asked if I wanted him to but we're not going through any actual legal details. I pretty much just have him for doing paperwork."

"Is the hearing in Chicago? You want me to come with ya? I'll get myself painted up like the demon and scare the judge into agreeing," he grinned.

Jet smirked. "I think you might get thrown out of the courthouse."

"Yeah, true," he acquiesced. "The offer really does stand, though, I'll come with you if you like. Moral support and all that."

Even though she needed no reminder of why she had re-settled in Florida, Fergal's immediate offer was one. She wanted to take it up but she could only imagine what the judge would think if she turned up for a divorce hearing with a different guy in tow, no matter their real relationship. "I should probably do this by myself. Thank you, though."

"Any time," he winked.

* * *

 **Wednesday, February 3, 2016  
Memphis, Tennessee**

She wouldn't admit it but Jet was suffering from a severe case of butterflies.

As soon as they landed in Memphis, she text Jon to let him know and asked where he'd like to meet. He opted for the hotel, figuring it would be the easiest place for two people who really didn't know the city very well. So, there she was, flittering around the room pretending to do something while she felt her stomach twist with either anxiety or excitement. She wasn't quite sure which. She'd thrown Sami out fifteen minutes before, unable to put up with his knowing smirk and twinkling eyes.

The knock at the door actually made her jump. She composed herself and calmly approached it, pulling it open to be met with a set of dimples and hair in his eyes.

"Hey."

Jon brushed the loose strands away and his smile somehow got bigger. "Hi." He moved on instinct toward her, then caught himself. "Uh, can I come in?"

She moved aside immediately. It hadn't even been two weeks but with such a long gap between September and the Rumble, two weeks may as well have been two months. He couldn't get enough. He opened his arms but didn't move, letting her make the decisions. Within a split second she was stepping into his hug.

"It's so good to see you," she mumbled into his shoulder.

"Yeah, you're not too bad yourself." He held her out at arm's length, looking her up at down. "So, what's the plan?"

"I have a completely empty day. Tomorrow is the first show, and then it's off to Nashville and Indianapolis. Until then, I'm free as a bird."

"Let's go out. Memphis has gotta have something good to offer, right?"

"We can find out. Lemme get changed real quick. I dressed for the Orlando weather I was leaving rather than the Tennessee weather I was flying into." She grabbed the closest things in her suitcase and disappeared into the bathroom, reappearing in ten minutes with her hair up and her smile bright. "Here," she said, grabbing something black and tossing it to him.

"What's this?" Jon questioned as he shook it out.

"Your hoodie. You loaned it to me at my house and I forgot to give it back."

Jon chuckled. "If I wanted it back, I would have asked. Keep it," he insisted, throwing it back. "You get colder than I do, anyway."

She pulled it on over her t-shirt, and then tugged on her winter coat for good measure.

"Yeah, it looks better on you, too," he added, looking her up and down. "Come on, let's go before I start thinking that it's a better idea to just stay here."

He was all hands on the way down to the parking lot, finding all the excuses to straighten the back of her jacket, or move her hair behind her shoulder, until he finally settled for letting their hands brush together. She almost tutted at him as she took the initiative to link their fingers together. It was cute that he was trying to carefully walk the line of what was and wasn't appropriate — especially when they were so close to so many co-workers — but, dammit, she couldn't deal with the faffing. And maybe she just wanted to hold his hand.

On their way across the lobby, Jet caught sight of a blonde practically running at them. She smiled fondly, coming to a halt but staying silent.

"Juliette, can I…?" Gionna trailed off, looking between Jet and Jon. She grinned suddenly, shaking her head. "Never mind, I'll speak to you at the show. Have a nice day!"

"Thanks, Gionna, we will," she replied, continuing on their way to Jon's rental.

"You weren't kidding," he mumbled, making sure the younger girl was out of earshot. "She really is enthusiastic."

"Bless her heart. She reminds me of little Juliette."

" _Littler_ Juliette. You're still little."

"I didn't ask for abuse, Jonathan."

He laughed, pointing at the car that belonged to him for the next thirty-six hours. "And yet I gave it to you anyway. Aren't I generous?"

When she was seated on the passenger side, Jet pulled out her phone. "Let's Google Maps this city. Any preferences?"

"Nope. I'm down for whatever."

Jet searched for places around where they were, her eyes scanning the screen for anything that seemed interesting. She glossed over the zoo, her eyes going further east. "There's a botanic garden seven miles away."

"A botanic garden?"

"Yes, it's a place where plants are grown for scientific study and to be displayed to the public."

The side-eye from Jon was immense. "Yes, thank you." He started the car and glanced over his shoulder to reverse. "If you want a botanic garden, you're gonna get a botanic garden. You navigate and I'll take you anywhere you wanna go, lady."

* * *

Jon was sure it was probably a case of 'you had to be there'.

Jet was midway through a story about how she'd taken charge of promo class once at the PC and had used the same techniques that her first coach used — roleplay. From what Jon could gather through her hysterical bouts of laughter, was that she went a little too far and almost convinced one of the young girls that she was about to be kidnapped in order to elicit a real emotional response. After that, Jet was gasping breaths too much for him to understand anything more than Fergal Devitt being in a hotdog costume for reasons unknown to him. He didn't care if he couldn't decipher the story anyway, he just sat back and watched her literally cry from laughter.

She'd been going through bouts of laughter pretty much since the moment they sat down in the botanic garden's café for some lunch. He hadn't been able to listen to more than a couple of sentences at a time before he was laughing too, just from the infectious nature of her giggling. Would it be nice to know why the hotdog costume had happened? Sure. Did he _need_ to know in order to enjoy how happy she was? Absolutely not.

"Is that seriously what you've been doing for five months? Bullying rookies and wearing stupid outfits?"

Jet paused, thinking intently. "Uh… yes. Yeah, that sounds pretty accurate. In my defence, it isn't _always_ that they're going to be kidnapped. I gave Amanda the scenario that she just found me sleeping with her boyfriend and she had to cut a two-minute promo on me."

"And?"

"She didn't quite get it. She insisted that if she caught me with her boyfriend, she wouldn't bother standing around for two minutes yelling at me, she'd just go for me. I couldn't argue with that, really."

"She's not wrong. Kinda ruins the purpose of promo class though."

"Yeah, I laughed but Regal wasn't very pleased." Her phone buzzed in her pocket loudly. "Sorry," she apologised, checking it quickly to make sure it wasn't an emergency.

"No problem. Anything important?"

"April. I can reply later."

"Oh, yeah? How are you guys? You were kinda on the outs last time I saw you."

"We're okay," she nodded. "We've agreed to just not talk about Phil or you. It's obvious we're never going to agree and, seeing as it's my life and not hers, it's best to just leave it. She can pretend that you're nowhere near me, and I can pretend she's not constantly siding with my soon-to-be ex-husband."

Jon blinked. "I don't know about you, but that sounded a little passive aggressive."

She laughed. "It didn't, didn't it? I guess I just had to get that out. Sami and Fergal just don't ask anymore for me to rant at them. I mean, obviously in Fergal's case, he doesn't wanna talk to me about my argument with his ex-girlfriend, and Sami just knows better than to open that can of worms."

"What happened with them? Ireland and Half Pint, I mean."

"I don't know," she admitted. "Ferg just came back from Tampa one weekend looking pretty bummed and then the next time I saw April, she was pissed the fuck off. I didn't ask, they didn't tell. None of my business, right?"

"Two of your best friends break up with each other and it's none of your business? Who are you and what have you done with my Juliette?" he gasped dramatically, laying his hand over his chest.

"Oh, c'mon, I'm not _that_ bad."

"You beat Colby with a shoe. Like, literally took off your shoe and _beat him_ over the head with it."

Jet grimaced and scratched at her neck. "Uh, yeah, I did, didn't I? Well, the Juliette of last February is a vastly different woman to the Juliette of this February. You're gonna have to get used to it."

"I can get _very_ used to it. I mean, I like all of your multiple personalities, but this one is great. This one is happy, confident, knows what she wants… what more could I ask for?"

She stared at him, narrowing her eyes. She was quiet for a long moment then tilted her head to the side. "You're giving me problems."

He propped his chin on his palm, grinning at her. "Oh, yeah? How's that?"

"I know what I want. You're making it very hard to figure out how to balance wanting to spend all my time with you, and not going too fast."

Jon felt a happy surge in his chest. "Too fast? Lady, this has been the _slowest_."

She tutted playfully at him. "You know what I mean. Phil and I had barely ten months all together of actual dating and then we were married. Bad plan. I was so caught up in all the things I thought I wanted, and the things I thought I was supposed to do, and I just didn't stop to think that moving at breakneck speed isn't good for anybody."

"How can we be moving at breakneck speed if we're not even dating?" Jon questioned, matching her head tilt. "You haven't exactly touched on that yet."

"I don't want to. I want to wait until I'm back on the road and we can have a real conversation about it without you having to head out to wherever. I promise, though, as soon as I'm on tour, we'll have a real talk."

Jon didn't need to, really. He knew where he stood and – judging by what she'd said and the fact that she'd let him take her out on a date – he was fairly sure that she was on the same page. Still, if it made her feel better to have a set time for a real discussion, he'd go with it.

"That's fine by me," he agreed. "For now, don't worry about it. Don't worry about the problems, don't worry about how you think this is supposed to go. We're just two friends enjoying a botanic garden, right?"

The easy out for her, that was Jon's MO. "Right. I mean, flowers, man. They're beautiful. Pretty sure I saw a sign for feeding koi fish in the Japanese garden, too."

"Aw, really? I love koi fish."

She laughed, hooking her arm through his. "Well, let's get to it, Good."

* * *

 **Tuesday, February 9, 2016  
Performance Center – Orlando, Florida**

Jet honestly wondered how she ever stayed in ring shape before her injury. Her muscles felt so much stronger now, with the benefit of months off from destroying her body nightly and the daily yoga. It felt fantastic to focus purely on herself after the mini-tour. She spent each of the three nights sitting beside Hunter — who was pretending not to be smug when he found out Jon was still in the city and they'd spent the day in Memphis together — with a headset on, delighting in sending instructions to the referee. Hunter reigned her in when she got a little too aggressive with her directions but was otherwise pleased with how well she'd taken to the production side of a show. He'd have to work with her on remaining professional, though. She all but lost her mind in hysterics when, the day after Fergal injured his ankle making him unable to perform in Indianapolis, Bayley recreated his entrance. She'd never needed a reminder of why she enjoyed NXT so much but she got one anyway.

Now, with the tour out of the way and the PC a little quieter since it was NXT off-day, she had some time to decompress from the short burst of travel, and the long burst of emotions that spending time with Jon had caused. She was trying to follow his advice —don't worry about it yet. They had a clear timeline for a discussion, after her return, and there was little point in focusing too intently on making any official decisions where the two of them were concerned. She had a divorce hearing in a week, anyway. Most of her nervous energy was centred there. For now, she'd use the free ring in the PC as her own personal yoga mat and expel some of that energy.

Hopefully without the whispering.

She glanced up, letting her pose slip. She saw immediately what the rookies were murmuring amongst themselves about – Colby Lopez had entered the building. She could see him through the window to the offices, speaking with Regal and Bloom. He glanced out very briefly and caught Jet's eye. She didn't give any indication that she'd seen him, instead returning to her yoga with her earbuds in to drown out the gossip.

They hadn't seen each other since the awkward visit in the hospital in Brooklyn. She'd sent him a text wishing him well when he had his knee surgery and he replied with his thanks, but that was about it. She knew he'd been to the Performance Center in recent weeks but they hadn't run into each other. She'd heard rumours that he'd recently broken up with Zahra, and that girl was really the root of the only problems they'd ever had with each other, but she still didn't have any idea what kind of footing they stood on.

She kept up with her routine for at least another twenty minutes, right up until she felt a nudge against her foot that pushed her out of position. She straightened up, pulling her earbuds out and turning to face whoever had moved her. When she came face to face with Colby, her eyebrows rose high. His hard stare and tense stance didn't seem to suggest he was there for a friendly chat.

"Uh, hi?"

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Jet glanced around, wondering if anyone else knew what his problem was. The door to the physio room was open and Fergal was watching while making a very good effort to pretend he wasn't. "Yoga. Is there something wrong with that?"

"Seriously?"

"Seriously." She paused again. "Am I missing something here?"

"Obviously. You're missing the part of you that used to give a shit."

"Excuse me?"

"No, I won't. I'm busting my ass every single day to get this knee fixed and you just wanna sit around here doing nothing so I won't _excuse_ you."

Jet practically recoiled at his tone. "Dude, what the hell? Chill out."

"Chill out? _Chill out_? Like you've been doing for months, huh? Did you not see Bryan having to stand out in front of a damn crowd and fucking retire? That's when you feel sorry for yourself, Juliette. Not when you're fine and just can't be fucked to actually do some work."

Her confusion was very quickly making way for anger. Sorry for herself? If there was anything she hadn't been feeling over the last few months it was sorry for herself. "Who the hell do you think you are?" she demanded, shoving Colby hard in the shoulder.

She was hardly quiet. Even with the PC being fairly empty, there were still enough people to draw quite an audience. Bloom began to make his way over, trying to diffuse the situation before it really began, but Regal held out his hand to halt the other man for a moment.

"Excuse me?"

"No, I won't," she shot back sarcastically. "Who the hell are you to come in here and tell me how I should be dealing with my recovery? Did I show up in Iowa and bitch at you about your damn knee?"

"No, because I'm actually doing something about it. I'm the one fighting to get back in the ring instead of sitting on my ass." He punctuated his sentence by shoving her back in retaliation.

Jet steadied her feet, glaring furiously at him. Neither of them cared about the scene they were making. "Yours is a fucking knee injury, Lopez. I could have _died_." She shoved him in the chest with both hands, much harder than the first time.

"But you didn't," he scoffed, barely shifting. "We could all die any damn second in this profession. Do you see the rest of us boo-hooing over it?"

"Why are you being such an asshole?! What the hell have I done to you?!"

"You pissed me off! Where the hell is the Juliette that busted her ass to make a name for herself? Where's the girl who didn't give a shit what anyone thought of her because she knew she was the damn best at what she did? Where's the Juliette who actually _cares_?"

He pushed her again, this time with enough force to have her completely lose her footing. It was pure instinct from there. As she felt herself falling, her arms flew out and her chin tucked in as she exhaled. After that split second, she stared up at the ceiling of the Performance Center, her mouth open in surprise.

After another moment Colby leaned over her, offering a soft smile and his hand. "Congratulations, there's your back bump."

She stayed on the mat, looking straight at him. He looked so smug in that moment that she wanted to reach up and punch him right in the nose. Her eyes drifted to her side, locking with Regal and Bloom. They were both chuckling. The rest of their audience was dispersing now that the argument had run its course.

"C'mon," Colby grinned, wiggling his fingers for her to take his hand.

Jet shoved it out of the way, pushing herself up instead. She moved past him, refusing to look him in the eye, and headed for the locker room. Before she could get all the way, a hand snagged her wrist. Fergal pulled her to a halt, right next to the physio room where he had work done on his ankle.

"Can you believe him?" she fumed before he had a chance to speak.

"Well…" Fergal shrugged. "I mean, we've all wondered if just giving you a shove would solve the problem. You were just up your own ass about it."

"I—you—I wasn't—I'm not—" Jet huffed and restarted, "I'm going home."

"You'll be doing nothing of the sort," William Regal cut in. "My office, Juliette."

She steeled herself. That was Regal's no nonsense voice. She followed him silently into his office, closing the door behind herself. Her jaw clenched as she stood in front of him. She felt very much like she was facing the headmaster.

"Are you done with the attitude?"

" _My_ attitude? Colby had no damn right!"

"That's quite enough of that," Regal stated firmly. "That young man did you a favour."

"That _young man_ is a douchebag," Jet muttered, rolling her eyes.

"If you're going to insist on behaving like a five-year-old, I'll send you to time out. You're upset because you've been embarrassed, not because of Colby. You're embarrassed that all you needed was a push in the right direction and you've faffed about it for months."

Jet didn't appreciate his pun. She did, however, know he was right. Annoyingly right. Of course she knew that. How could she be mad at Colby when he was the one to do what needed to be done? She was mad because she had made such a big deal about that bump, as if it was a life or death situation, and he came in for five minutes and blew all that out of the water. She was surprised everyone out there had managed to refrain from pointing and laughing at her. It was easier to direct her frustration at Colby than it was to happily take his hand and admit to his face that all she'd needed to do was fall.

She had to get over it. That was one of the points of all this time in Orlando — getting over her natural defensive instinct and admitting when she was wrong. She was wrong, she'd acted like a child, and Colby had helped her out, even if he'd used tough love to do it. She'd probably needed some tough love for months.

She sighed and nodded. "Yeah," she agreed. "You're right."

"Quite. He was too. _The best at what she does_. Go and prove him right."

With the kick up the ass that she needed, she left the office and made a straight beeline for one of the only rings currently in use. She felt a surge of relief that Bayley was still part of the NXT roster. When she went up with the other bunch of women in the midst of Jet's feud with Hunter, it was supposed to be permanent. They were still working both rosters then, touring with the Raw and Smackdown crew, and coming home to do the Florida shows as well. After a while, they were going to be phased into just being with the main roster, but Jet's injury put a dampener on that. The whole angle dissolved as soon as she was out for so long, and there wasn't really much for the NXT girls to do. Becky, Sasha and Charlotte remained full-time with the main roster, while the others were sent back to NXT. Jet felt horrible about it. All of them deserved their spot but the timing of everything ruined it. Thankfully, Hunter said they had better plans for the ladies' promotions that wouldn't take too long, and it would give them their own spotlight. Jet hoped Bayley got the best of those. For now, however, she needed her in Orlando.

"Hey, Bayley?"

She looked over, smiling brightly immediately and pretending she hadn't seen the showdown with Colby. "Hey Jet, what's up?"

With a deep, steadying breath and a glance toward the ring, she managed to ask the question she'd been trying to get to for months, "Do you fancy trying some stuff out with me? I've got some things I need to work on."

Bayley's smile got bigger somehow. "You betcha!"

* * *

We're finally back in the groove and heading toward a return! Next chapter will be the divorce hearing, so plenty of tension. Also, the banner for this story is up on my profile now for any of you interested.

Drop me a review, lemme know what you thought!


	6. bite your face to spite your nose

Here we go again!

* * *

 **Wednesday, February 17, 2016  
Chicago, Illinois**

"And what business do you have in the airport at six a.m.?" Jet asked, coming up on the man sitting inside.

Fergal flashed Jet a cheeky smile, patting his carry-on beside him. "C'mon, you really think I was gonna let you go alone? I could tell you didn't mean it when you said you'd be fine."

"I don't deserve you, Fergal Devitt."

" _Everyone_ deserves a little Fergalicious in their lives."

She laughed. "I love you for not hating that nickname."

"I love you for actually laughing at six in the morning. Stressed, huh?"

"What was the giveaway?"

"The Juliette I know isn't even sentient before nine. Laughing before eleven is not you."

"Am I that much of a monster in the morning?"

"Oh, yeah, absolutely," he teased. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders, using the other to point in the direction of the TSA checkpoint before grabbing his small bag. "Once we get through there, a little drink will settle your nerves."

"A drink? At six? When I have to be in front of a judge later?"

Fergal tutted and rolled his eyes. "Well, when you put it like _that_ it doesn't sound like a good idea."

A drink ended up being a pretty good idea. She kept herself to one, just to take the edge off her nerves (and to help her ignore the side-eye from the barman), and then put up with seventeen jokes from Fergal, all of them beginning with "an Irishman and a Brit walk into a bar…"

The flight to Chicago was one of the tensest of her life, despite the shot of tequila. She was under no illusion that the day was going to be anything less than horrendous. Having to stand in front of a judge and justify her request for a divorce was bad enough; to have to face her husband while she did it was something else. Fergal squeezed her hand every time he noticed her getting especially tense, reminding her that she had a friendly face right there.

They didn't have a whole lot of time once they landed. She'd booked a hotel room for the night to save a day of double flying, giving them the opportunity to drop their bags off and tidy up.

"Good thing we didn't get delayed, huh?" Fergal smiled as they climbed into the rental car.

It was a shorter ride than she would have liked; she felt like she needed more time to mentally prepare herself. Fergal tried to keep up a steady stream of easy conversation, only to receive short answers in return. He had to reach across more than once to pull her fingers from her mouth, trying to help her stave off the nervous nail-biting.

He took one hand off the steering wheel to squeeze her thigh. "Chin up, it'll be over in no time."

* * *

Phil Brooks hated wearing suits.

If he could get away without one, he would. He could remember pretty much every time he had worn one, purely because it was such a rare event — Hall of Fame ceremonies, red carpets (sometimes), for UFC events, his wedding… and now in court to fight to save that marriage.

Really, he was starting to feel the seriousness of the situation. He hadn't thought they'd get here, to an actual court date. He thought she'd give it up, that she'd see sense and come home. Now, months later and with a judge about to comb through their marriage, he realised that he'd been kidding himself. She was moving on.

And he was mad.

He couldn't understand how he was the one to be losing out. He hadn't done anything wrong. He'd forgiven her for everything, was willing to work through it. He wanted to make their marriage a happy one. _She_ was the one who had given up. Why did he have to be in a courthouse, working on the defensive to try to stop this? Why did she think he should just stand back and let this happen? Why did she get to be the one who had ruined this but would be moving on as happily as ever while he was left miserable?

She practically strolled into the building, looking frustratingly good, and made very brief eye contact with him. She made a beeline for the clerk, giving her information and finding out where she needed to be. She didn't even say hello, just took a seat along the wall and crossed one leg over the other. She deliberately kept her eyes away from his, not wanting to instigate anything in the hallway of a courthouse.

In a fit of pique, Phil stood up and took the seat directly next to her, smirking at her in a way that could only be described as predatory. "I was starting to wonder if you were actually going to show."

Jet glanced at him. "And let them dismiss the case by default?"

"A guy can hope."

She struggled not to roll her eyes. Instead, she stood and moved several seats down. Phil followed, again taking the seat next to her. "Come on, this place is empty. Don't make that police officer get involved."

"I'm not breaking the law, Juliette."

She took a deep breath, reminding herself to remain calm and collected. "Phil, I want to do this and go home with as little pain as possible. Can we just agree on that?"

"Seems like we can't agree on anything anymore, sweetheart. That's why we're here. After all, _you_ can't agree that our marriage is worth saving."

She bit her tongue. _Calm and collected_. She had to refrain from snapping back at him, especially before they'd even got in to see the judge. "I wrote it all in the petition, Phil. Did you even read it?"

"Sure. Over and over again. Still isn't true."

"Okay," she replied simply. Cutting off the conversation was the only way to maintain her sanity. He could sit three inches away if he wanted but she wasn't going to entertain him. If she didn't look at him or speak to him, he'd get bored of it eventually.

"Really? I get the silent treatment?"

Nothing.

Phil laughed, short and cold. "Incredible. Seriously, how am _I_ the bad guy here? Do you forget that all of this is on you?"

Jet huffed out a breath. That was their main problem right there — he still refused to accept that all of their problems didn't start and end with her relationship with Jon. He wouldn't open his eyes to the communication issues, the distance difficulties, none of it. He wanted to keep hold of his idea that everything that happened was solely because of her and Jon. He could keep thinking that for all she cared. It was obviously too late. She got up again to move, feeling him stand too behind her.

"Okay, okay, I see. Whatever, you wanna give me the cold shoulder, that's fi—"

"How does anyone park in this city?" Fergal grumbled loudly on his way down the hall. "We shoulda called a cab."

Finally, that stupid smirk was wiped off Phil's face. He stared hard at the Irishman then looked at Jet, "Really? You brought a little friend?"

"I have every right to bring anyone here that I want."

"Of course you do. Free country after all."

She could do without his sarcasm. "Spot on."

Fergal looked between the two of them and could immediately feel the tension. He stepped in front of Jet, laying a hand on Phil's chest to make him keep his distance. "Look, whatever's been happening in here, it's ending now, pal."

"You keep your damn mitts off me," Phil growled, shoving his hands away. "This is between me and my wife."

"Ferg, it's not worth it," Jet mumbled to him, trying to pull him back.

He ignored her, keeping his eyes on Phil. "And I've just made it between me and you. Juliette doesn't want to speak to you. If you had any damn sense you'd just agree to this and let everyone get on with their lives."

"So, is that what this is?" Phil sneered, waving his hand between the Irishman and the Brit. "He the latest?"

"Phil, don't."

"Don't think I haven't seen the photos, Juliette. Twitter just _loves_ it. You've got a steady stream of them, haven't you? As if it's not bad enough that you're obviously getting cosy with the man you _cheated on me_ with. Does he know you've got little _Ferg_ here, too? Are you gonna pit them against each other as well?" He turned his attention to Fergal with a scowl, "Save yourself the trouble, pal. She doesn't care."

Fergal's jaw was tight when he leaned in close to Phil's face. "I am going to give you one warning to stop. From now until this hearing is over, you don't look at her, you don't speak to her, you don't _breathe_ in her direction, you hear me? Upset her one more time and—"

"Ferg, stop," Jet cut in, grabbing his forearm. The policeman was eyeing all three of them suspiciously and the absolute last thing any of them needed was to get in trouble for being unable to keep the peace. "Come on, leave it."

With all of them very aware of the eyes on them, Fergal and Jet made their way to the very end of the bank of seats, and Phil stayed put. She rubbed her thumbs in her eyes with a heavy sigh. When Fergal looped his arm around her shoulders, she leaned in to him. She was tired already.

"Really, what did you see in that guy?"

"He's not usually like that, I swear. He doesn't even mean it, he's just mad."

"I don't care. He doesn't get to talk to you like that, angry or not."

She shrugged tiredly. "It's whatever. I mean, it's my fault he's got that pent up aggression. I was pretty awful to him."

Fergal huffed loudly. He was trying to defend her, dammit. "No, you're being too hard on yourself. You did the very best with what you had. You didn't try to hurt him, you didn't go off and have a long-winded sexual affair with someone, you haven't aired any dirty laundry that I'm _sure_ he's got. The only way any of this could have been avoided is if you didn't fall in love with Jon and, honestly, that's not something under your control."

"I could have told the truth earlier."

"Sure, you could have. But you didn't lie to save yourself, it was to save people from being hurt. You are _not_ a bad person, Juliette, and I won't let him talk to you as if you are."

Jet suddenly wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face into his shoulder. "Thank you for being here."

"Of course," he replied quietly, rubbing her back.

"Is it really terrible of me to almost wish Jon was here? Just to _really_ grind his gears. I mean, he obviously wants to be mad and that would just push him over the edge."

Fergal chuckled but shook his head. "Everyone would end up in a jail cell. Or someone would get shot. That cop over there looks ready for a fight."

Jet glanced at the man in uniform, smirking when she saw his narrowed eyes moving between the two of them and Phil down at the other end. "Yeah, I'm not looking to end up in jail or get shot. They're not high on my bucket list."

Both of them settled back, sitting straight in their chairs and smiling innocently at the policeman. He shot them back a suspicious glare. Fergal turned a hilariously awkward grimace back toward Jet, leaving them both in fits of giggles. She didn't even notice the way Phil's eyes stared hard at them while his mouth pressed into a tight, furious line.

* * *

"Mrs Brooks, as the petitioner in this case, I'll ask you first to explain to me the reasoning behind your request to be granted a divorce."

Jet breathed out deeply, trying to exhale some of her anxiety. Fergal was directly behind her, seated in the gallery, and leaned over to rub the bottom of her back as she stood. She shook her hands out by her sides, keeping her eyes entirely on the judge. Her lawyer had warned her about this. She knew that, despite having read the petition, the judge would ask her to reiterate.

"Your Honour, I'm trying to do what's best for both of us. My husband and I just don't have enough time to spend together, we can't communicate properly, and I feel that there's no way for us to repair our marriage."

"Could you give me some examples, Mrs Brooks, of your lack of communication?"

She scratched at her own palm, feeling her discomfort levels rising. "We're both volatile people, Your Honour. I'm not going to pretend none of this is my fault. A lot of it is, I made some bad decisions. But I should be able to tell my husband that I don't want to move to a different state without the worry of him flipping out and it turning into a stupid argument. I should have a husband who doesn't push my buttons so easily. I've been working on it, I really have, and I'm sure Phil has too, but it is so much better for us to be apart. I love my husband, Your Honour, but that isn't enough. It's not enough to get over the distance and the mistrust."

"Mistrust?" The judge glanced down at the paperwork in front of him, surmising what had been included in the petition. "You filed under no fault grounds, Mrs Brooks. Irreconcilable differences. Are you suggesting that your husband _has_ faulted in your marriage, to cause a loss of trust?"

Phil scoffed loudly and Jet practically winced. She'd hoped they wouldn't have to get into this in the court room. "No, Your Honour. _He_ doesn't trust me. He couldn't, even if he says differently." She paused, trying to work through the most delicate way to phrase what she had to say. "I had an emotional affair, Your Honour. I'm not proud of it and I never intended to hurt anyone, but it happened. I fell in love with another man."

She saw the judge's eyes quickly move over to Fergal behind her.

"Not him," she added quickly. The poor Irishman looked caught in the headlights and she really didn't want the judge to think that she'd bring along her side-man to rub in Phil's face. "He's a friend."

"She's got a lot of _friends_ , Your Honour," Phil spoke up.

Jet ground her teeth together, fighting against all her instincts that told her to reply. The judge warned Phil with just a look but he had a smug grin on his face anyway. Jet could hear Fergal shift behind her, undoubtedly glaring hard into the back of Phil's head.

"Mr Brooks, clearly you wish to reply. You've made it clear you disagree with your wife's judgement of irreconcilable differences."

"Yes, Your Honour," he nodded. "They're not irreconcilable, she just doesn't want to try."

She literally bit down on her tongue, keeping herself from saying anything that would get her in trouble with the judge. Fergal again reached over the barrier to rub the bottom of her back.

"Your Honour," she spoke up, "I think that's enough, right? He wants to try, I don't. Those positions are not compatible, ergo they are irreconcilable."

"Hold on, Mrs Brooks," the judge held up his hand, keeping his attention on Phil. "Mr Brooks, why would you wish to commit to a marriage that your wife has made clear she wants out of?"

"Because I still love her, Your Honour. She said it herself, she still loves me. Besides…" He looked directly at her, that infuriating smirk making its way back onto his face, "It's more than that. We have to have been living separately and apart for at least six months, right? I'm guessing having sex kinda resets that time."

Jet's jaw dropped open. She hadn't considered that, it hadn't even crossed her mind that he might use it against her. She stared hard at him, her eyes furious, and clamped her jaw shut again. Her teeth pressed together so tightly they felt like they might crack.

The judge turned his attention to her. "Mrs Brooks, have you had sexual relations with your husband during your separation?"

Jet didn't peel her eyes off Phil. She felt Fergal's hand again, trying to steer her back to the judge, but she couldn't help it. "No, Your Honour."

Phil scoffed. "Liar."

"Prove it," she shot back. "We're in a court of law, Phil, so go ahead and show me the evidence." If one thing went in her favour, it was that the judge wouldn't take anything but pure, hard facts into account. If Phil wanted to play those games, he could be damn sure she'd play right back.

"Mr Brooks, do you have any proof to support this accusation?"

He actually had the temerity to grin. "No, Your Honour."

The judge turned his attention back to Jet, seeming completely unperturbed by the slight deviation. "Mrs Brooks, while I understand your position and your desire to be granted a dissolution, under Illinois state law I am unable to do so before the two year separation period, unless Mr Brooks states his agreement."

Jet nodded. She hadn't expected anything else, really. Phil's attitude made it obvious he wasn't going to simply back down and sign on the dotted line. "I understand, Your Honour."

"Mr Brooks," he continued, "I am denying your motion to dismiss. Your wife has not accused you of anything that can be proven false, therefore you have no grounds to request a dismissal. I will, however, suggest mediation for the two of you. Perhaps you can reach an understanding with each other, be that for reconciliation or divorce."

"No," Jet stated firmly. She caught herself, quickly adding, "No, Your Honour. I'm sorry but I have a life in Florida."

"It's not like you're doing anything," Phil shrugged.

"Excuse me?"

"What? You're not working, you're living it up in Orlando."

"It's none of your business what I'm doing in Orlando. The fact of the matter is that I'll be going back to work soon and I just don't have time for some bullshit mediation effort in Chicago."

Fergal tried desperately to hide his laughter with a cough.

"Sorry," Jet mumbled, looking apologetically up at the judge.

"Mrs Brooks, what line of work are you in that makes one weekend a month impossible?"

"I'm a professional wrestler, Your Honour."

For the first time, the judge actually looked surprised. Everything else during the hearing was stuff he heard regularly between bitter exes, but this was new. He glanced at Phil who was still grinning and nodding his head.

"Seriously," Phil nodded. " _She_ is a professional wrestler."

"At least I've got a job," she shot back at him. She'd come into this trying so hard to be mature and composed, but he had pressed her buttons the entire time. "You can't call yourself a mixed martial artist if you never actually fight, Phil."

The judge cleared his throat loudly, cutting Phil off before he could reply. "I understand your position, Mrs Brooks. It would be impractical for this court to expect you to commit to future attempts at reconciliation. Your divorce may be granted on or after the date of July 29, 2017."

That was that. The whole trip to Chicago had been purely for the judge to tell her what she already knew — she'd be in purgatory for another eighteen months. Maybe she'd just held out a little hope that Phil would see sense before now. More fool her. She politely thanked the judge for his time before turning to face Fergal, finally letting all her irritation show. The Irishman could see Phil approaching, likely to rub some more salt in, so quickly hurried her out of the courtroom.

They got as far as the hallway. Phil's footsteps were loud behind them, clearly catching up. With her anger still burning, Jet span on her heel so they were face to face. The same cop was still watching them carefully, but couldn't intervene until either of them actually broke the law.

"Was that funny to you?"

"Yes, actually. Hilarious," Phil drawled. "You didn't enjoy yourself?"

She stared at him, wondering who the hell this man was. The man she'd spoken to in January was the man she had married — stubborn, of course, but well-meaning for the most part. This man… she didn't know him. She didn't know the guy in front of her who wanted to do nothing but cut into her. She understood his anger but she couldn't understand the spite. She had been angry plenty of times but she'd never been so callously cruel to him like this. If this was how he thought he'd win her back, he was sorely mistaken.

"I don't know what you think you're achieving through all this Phil, but you're gonna get nothing. If you think you're going to guilt me into giving you the rest of my life, you are horribly mistaken. You keep saying you love me, yet all you're doing is making me miserable. I'm sorry that _you're_ unhappy, but I refuse to be. I'm moving on. Is that your plan? To keep me married and think he'll care? He doesn't."

"He will. Eventually it'll eat at him," Phil shrugged, fighting down the urge to vomit. No matter all his bravado and attempts to bait her into the kind of fire that used to bring them together, he'd been shoved back down. She'd barely said anything to him all afternoon but she'd cut him down with a few sentences. He could only hold it together now, and pretend it hadn't phased him.

"He's not you," Jet snarled, leaning in close to Phil's face.

That was the killer blow. Phil stepped back, giving Jet the space she needed to breeze past him. Fergal smashed his shoulder against the other man, giving him a look that could kill. When they were gone Phil's head sunk, his chin touching his chest.

"Fuck."

* * *

Jet hadn't asked for two beds in her hotel room but was thankful it came with them. Fergal hadn't planned his impromptu trip much further than the flight. He probably would have tried to get a flight back that night, or stay in the airport overnight until he could leave in the morning, but Jet wouldn't ever have that. Both of them needed a good night of sleep. Not that either of them would get that any time soon. Despite being emotionally exhausted, Jet was still far too angry to consider sleeping.

Fergal leaned back against his headboard, turning to face where Jet was laying on her side. "Well… today was eventful."

"That's one word for it."

"He was an absolute asshole."

"Yeah."

"You okay?"

"I'll be fine. Ready to be home already."

He knew she'd be okay once they got back to Orlando. Sami would get a smile out of her no matter what. "Was he lying?"

She finally lifted her eyes up to actually look in Fergal's face. "What?"

"He said you slept together. Is that true?"

She sighed. "Yes. In November."

"Juliette…"

"I know, okay? I don't need the lecture about how stupid it was, _I know_."

"I'm not going to lecture you," Fergal insisted. "It's nothing to do with me who you sleep with. I just don't want you getting sucked back in. It's clear enough to me that it'd be awful for you."

"Glad we're on the same page." She groaned and rolled over to face the ceiling. "I just really wish I could go see my dogs."

"Something tells me that's a bad idea."

"Yeah."

Fergal grimaced to himself as the tense silence set in. He patted his hands against his thighs a couple of times before reaching for his shoes. He understood she needed some time to herself. "Uh, I'm gonna go for a jog. I know you wanna make phone calls, I'll give you some privacy."

She smiled, nodding her head. "Thank you." Just as he walked past her bed for the door, Jet grabbed his hand. "I mean it, _thank you_. I'm not sure I'd have made it through today without you."

Fergal winked, lifting her hand to press a light kiss to the back. "Anytime, love."

When Fergal vacated the room, Jet grabbed her phone. She had a few people she'd promised to get in touch with once the hearing was over. She cracked on, working her way through the list. There was one person who hadn't asked for news on it, purely because he didn't know it had happened. She'd save him for last. Sami was first and the unfortunate recipient of Jet's rant. She hadn't wanted to load it onto Fergal since he'd already suffered through that day so Sami was the first person she had a chance to let loose on. As always, he listened until she had exhausted all the expletives in her mind. When she was done with him, she called Adam. He was much less of a gracious ear, preferring to insert his own swears here and there. He insisted that his offer to rough Phil up still stood. She fizzled out much quicker with Adam; the longer she went from the incident, the more her anger turned to pity. Phil was alone and heartbroken and struggling while she had almost everything going for her. It was no wonder he expelled those feelings that way. With the call to Adam over, Jet prepared to call Jon. Instead, she fielded a call from Hunter. He tried to not probe too much but he couldn't help himself. He did manage to keep his thoughts more to himself than Adam had but Jet could read his voice and knew he wasn't happy with the situation.

Finally, once Hunter was called away by one of his daughters, Jet was left to tilt her phone back and forth as she waited for the FaceTime call to be picked up. She hoped she wasn't waking him. It was still fairly early but they all caught up on sleep during their off days. Just when she was considering cutting it off to save from interrupting whatever he was doing, he answered with his face pressed close to the screen and a broad smile gracing it.

"Hey. Wasn't expecting to see your pretty face today."

She smiled softly, appreciating his immediate instinct to compliment. "I've had a… _trying_ day. Figured you might cheer me up."

"Oh, yeah? What's happened?"

She chewed the inside of her cheek, grimacing even at the memory of the afternoon. "I'm in Chicago, I had to go to my divorce hearing."

"Ooh. You shoulda said, I'd have come with you."

"Fergal came. Besides, bring my other man to see the judge? That'd go down well."

He leaned back against his headboard, far enough for Jet to see that he was shirtless. She tried not to pay attention. "Even if I weren't there, I'm honoured to be the person you called."

Jet chuckled, tilting her head to the side. "Well, actually, you were kinda fourth. Well, _third_ that I called. Hunter called me so you were fourth overall."

"Ouch," he laughed. "Who beats me?"

"I called Sami first, then Adam. For what it's worth, you'd have been first if not for the fact that I would have just ranted at you for an hour. I figured I should call them first to get it all out and calm down since you were more likely to come out here and cause bodily harm if you had to hear it all while I was still pissed."

"That bad?" Jon leaned closer again, his eyes narrowed. "What did he do?"

"Ugh, he was seriously playing it up. Like, full on heel CM Punk. I don't know if he's forgotten he doesn't do that anymore, or if I just got a special treat. Fergal dealt with it."

"Yeah? Did he punch him?"

Jet smirked. "No, unfortunately not. He'd have deserved it, but I thought it best that none of us end up in jail."

"Dammit. Maybe next time, huh?"

"Something tells me there won't be another hearing until I can force the issue."

"When's that?"

"July 29, 2017."

Jon grimaced for her but shrugged. "Doesn't matter, huh? It'll happen eventually, even if you have to wait."

"Yeah, that's what I keep telling myself. I suppose it doesn't make much difference, I just have to keep Brooks as my name for a little longer. Not like anyone has ever called me that anyway, except for official things." She shook her head, trying to let it all go for now. "Let's talk about something else. I don't want this whole conversation to be about my divorce. How's your WrestleMania prep going?"

"Yeah, good. We've got Fastlane on Sunday, triple threat between me, Joe and your boy Brock."

Jet pulled a face, "So, I guess you're eating the pin?"

"You guess right, darlin'. Plans are still to set up for me and Brock at 'Mania."

"That should be fun."

"Will it?" he chuckled. "I'm not sure he likes me."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because the first time we got together to talk about the match, he started the conversation with, 'Look, I don't like you.' That was a bit of a giveaway."

Jet tried not to laugh. She failed. "At least you can say that Brock is always straightforward. He has always kind of implied to me that he's not your biggest fan. It's nothing to do with your wrestling."

"Oh, so it's personal? Even better," Jon teased.

"You know what I mean. Him and Phil are pals."

"I couldn't care less if he likes me or not. The only time that will bother me is if _you_ care."

"I don't care what anyone thinks of you. Made that pretty clear where April was concerned, right?"

"Of course you did. I'm not worried," he assured her. "There's nothing about you that worries me."

She bit her lips together, trying not to grin like an idiot. "Oh buddy, you're in for a sharp shock."

"I've seen everything you could ever throw at me. Not to mention, you were a spectacular basket case for a few months there. How much worse can you get?"

Jet laughed, unable to hold it in. "You have a funny way of being charming, Jonathan."

"Eh, you like it though, right?"

She smiled fondly. "Wouldn't change you for the world."

* * *

Come on, a contested divorce was never going to be smooth sailing, right? Don't be too mad at me for the tension (unless you love the tension, of course), I know what I'm doing.

Go ahead and drop me a review, let me know what you think!


	7. good as gold, stupid as mud

Thank you for the responses to the last chapter, guys. It's really interesting to see how differently people are responding to the events. Here we go with the next one...

* * *

 **Friday, March 4, 2016  
NXT  
Agora Theatre – Cleveland, Ohio**

"Alright, time to bring it home," Jet spoke into the microphone of her headset.

She saw the referee duck down on the monitor, close to Tye Dillinger on the mat, to let him know that they were in the last couple of minutes of their match. As he got up, he whispered the same message to Sami and they rounded it all out. Hunter leaned back in his seat, stretching his arms out in front of his body before taking off his headset now that they were in the intermission.

"Good job," he commended. Jet had really taken to production. She hadn't taken charge of any televised NXT shows that would require learning how to call camera angles, but he was sure she'd pick that up just as quickly. If he kept her around Florida for that long, anyway.

"Thanks."

He paused for a moment, tapping his fingertips on the desk. "Y'know, there's still time to put you on the card for tomorrow in Columbus. I've seen you working with Johnny, it's going good. Whaddaya say — you and Gargano versus Murphy and Alexa?"

"Tommaso would be horrified," Jet deadpanned.

"Oh, right, you're just worried about Ciampa's feelings."

"Of course. I'm a compassionate human being."

Hunter chuckled and shook his head but left it there. Now that she was over her bumping fear, she'd returned to the Jet he knew. Unfortunately, that opened up another problem — perfectionism. She was a master of her craft and wouldn't accept showing a crowd anything less than her absolute best. That meant spending more than two weeks shaking off five months' worth of ring rust.

"You know I can't help but try."

"I know. I'll be ready for WrestleMania," she promised again. "If you'll excuse me, I wanna go say hi to Candice."

"Intermission ends in twenty, be back then."

Jet nodded lazily as she got out of her seat, walking backwards away from him. "You know this isn't actually my job, right?"

"Your job is whatever I tell you it is."

"Aye-aye, Captain," she saluted.

It wasn't hard to find Candice. She had been front row for the whole show so far but had gone backstage as soon as intermission began to see Johnny before his match. She hung back, not wanting to interrupt the couple, until Johnny and Tommaso were hurried away for a last-minute talk through. When Candice noticed her, she practically bounced to cross the distance and threw her arms around Jet.

"Oh my God, it's been forever!"

"I saw you in December, it wasn't that long ago."

"It feels like forever. We've got loads to catch up on. Johnny said you're back in the ring now. How's that going?"

"Pretty well, actually. I've got more ring rust than I realised but I'm getting there."

"That's good. And how's… the other stuff?"

Jet was under no illusion that there was anyone who didn't know about her divorce by now. Someone — fan or dirtsheet writer, she wasn't sure — had found the public records of her petition online and it had quickly spread around the internet. She didn't particularly care; everyone knew they were separated since she'd moved to Orlando and they'd all figure out that a divorce was the next step. At least now she could openly talk about it with more than four or five people. It was a Godsend to have another girl to talk it over with. April had been far more understanding after the hearing than she had been in January. She agreed immediately that Phil had been completely out of line but Jet couldn't shake the feeling that April still thought it fell into the bracket of their usual arguments that they would resolve and get back together after. She wasn't sure what it would take for April to accept that it was over, but that she could maintain a happy friendship with both of them.

"It's just sort of in the background, to be honest. There's nothing I can do about it right now and I have zero interest in trying _again_ to convince Phil so I'm just going to leave it. Hopefully he'll come to his senses someday soon and just agree finally but if not, I'll just wait." Jet paused when a thought came to her, "This is probably the wrong conversation to have with someone getting married this year. Sorry," she winced.

"Nah, it's nothing. I don't' think anyone has worries about me and Johnny." Now she was the one that froze, grimacing uncomfortably. "Not to say that anyone was worried about you and Punk, of course!"

Jet laughed. "You don't need to lie to me. I remember, everyone had plenty to say about us getting married. They weren't wrong, it turned out."

"Still, I shouldn't have worded it like that."

"Honestly, I don't mind. I'm happy I did it, even if it ended this way. Better to do and die than to never try, right?"

Candice smiled brightly. She had been a little worried back in Reseda that the brief mention of her bad years was going to stick in her mind. While she didn't doubt that Jet still thought about what had nearly been spilled during her conversation with Kyle and Roddy — she did _know_ Jet after all, and she knew the woman was incapable of just letting things go as easily as she should — it was relieving to see that she was still seeming as well as she had back in December. She was in a good place and, as a friend who had seen the worst of her places, Candice was endlessly happy for her.

"Yeah, you're right. It's always better than wondering about it. If you didn't marry him, you always would have had that thing in the back of your head, wondering if you should have."

"Exactly. The situation isn't ideal, but what is? I'm dealing the best I can."

Candice's smile wouldn't shift the whole time they were talking. Jet was soon matching it while they discussed everything under the sun that had happened between December and March. Candice was most interested in hearing about Jon so Jet, of course, stayed coy and left it simply at "it's a thing".

Before Candice could plead for any of the juicy information, Johnny was back to let her know that intermission was ending and his match was up next. While Candice made her way back out to the front row to support her guy, Jet debated. She could either go back to the production centre in time for the match, or she could get food. The rumbling feeling in her stomach answered that question.

Hunter shot her an exasperated look when she finally returned to her seat and settled her headset back on. He pulled his microphone down away from his mouth as the tag match was ending and Johnny was soaking up the cheers from his hometown crowd.

"Do you have zero concept of _twenty minutes_?"

"I had to eat. Candice and I talked for a while."

"Yeah, I gathered. You women and your gossip."

"Rude. Besides, you owe me an extra ten minute break."

"I _owe_ you? How do you figure that?" Hunter questioned, a small smile playing at his lips.

"You're taking Sami from me." As of that coming Monday, Sami was officially a member of the main roster and Jet couldn't say she wasn't a little heartbroken about it. It wouldn't be long until she was there, but she'd miss him endlessly for that month that he was gone for most of the week.

"Let it go. You'd be there too if it didn't take you so long to get your head out of your ass."

"Okay, fine, you owe me for Aries instead."

Hunter rolled his eyes. "You know, he's only had nice things to say about you."

"He's lying. Or being sarcastic. He hates me. I mean, I don't care, I hate him too. But you totally hired him and brought him into my safe space and everything. Not cool."

"You want me to run all future hiring past you first?"

"Yes, actually. That would be lovely," she replied, shooting him a saccharine smile.

"Make friends, Juliette. I understand you may have had your problems with each other years ago, but you're both older now. Time to bury the hatchet, don't you think?"

She crossed her arms, pouting childishly. "I don't want to."

Hunter patted the top of her head, mocking her pout. "You can be a big girl."

Jet wasn't sure she could. She and Aries had always clashed since she'd first met him at Ring of Honor. Technically she had been the one to start their "feud" with each other when she took exception to the way he spoke about her friends. She overheard him complaining about Sami, back in his El Generico days, for having too much _fun_. She didn't know what his problem was but she told him straight that he was a dick for it. Ever since, they'd had problems. He go out of his way to criticise her matches whenever they were in the same building, and she could return the insults in kind. They had very briefly crossed paths in Full Sail and Jet had been treated to his most impressive of sneers. She grinned back at him sarcastically and carried on with her day but she was less than thrilled that he was around.

"Hey," Hunter added, "The sooner you get back on tour, the sooner you're not in the same space as Aries."

"Yeah, until you bring him to the main roster."

He sighed and lifted an eyebrow at her. "You're lucky I humour you. Any other boss would have demoted your ass by now."

"Demoted me to where? The only way you could demote me is to fire me."

"Maybe I will."

Jet scoffed and obnoxiously flipped her hair over her shoulder. "We all know you need me." She couldn't help grinning as she punched him lightly in his massive arm and leaned across against his shoulder. "You're right, I am very lucky you humour me. I will do my best to not cause any problems with Austin Aries, and I will work very hard to warrant the care and attention you've put into both me and my career."

It sounded very professional and formal and absolutely _not_ Jet. "I don't believe a damn word of that."

She smirked, "What, you think I'm gonna punch Aries in the face or something because he looks at me funny?"

Hunter looked pointedly down at her left knuckles and the scarring that was evident on them. "No," he drawled sarcastically. "Why ever would I think that? It's not like you've got previous."

Jet clasped her hands together and had the sense to look embarrassed. "Okay, yeah, you have a point."

"I always have a point. One day you'll learn to listen."

"I listen."

"You _pretend_ to listen."

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Alright, sorry, Dad. I promise I'll do everything you tell me from now on."

Hunter grinned, settling his microphone back up by his mouth as the next match was about to begin. "Wonderful, that's what I like to hear. We can start with Thursday; I'll be in Orlando, we can talk through things there, see where you're at."

Ever since Colby had thankfully forced her into the bump, Hunter had completely laid off his usual weekly phone calls to check on her progress. Now that he knew the major hurdle had been overcome, he trusted that she was working hard to shake off the rust. Matt and Sara had told him as much, that she was the first one in and the last one out, but it had been a few weeks and it was time for him to see just how well she was doing. He needed to know how possible that WrestleMania return really was.

"Sure," she agreed. "You could get in the ring with me, that'd be fun."

"You just wanna show me up in my own building."

She smiled innocently and whistled. "No idea what you're talking about."

* * *

 **Saturday, March 5, 2016  
NXT Live! at the Arnold Classic  
Greater Columbus Convention Center – Columbus, Ohio**

 _Happy anniversary._

Jet stared at the screen of her phone, wondering if she was actually reading that. She tilted her head to the side, hoping that staring at it from a different angle would have it make sense. Nope, she definitely had that text.

 _ **You're joking, right?**_ , she sent back. There was no way he could possibly be serious; no way he could have waited over two weeks to contact her only to open with that.

 _Of course I'm joking. Doesn't mean I don't love you, though._

Before she had a chance to send him something back that was expletive-laden and told him exactly what she thought of his 'love', another message was coming through.

 _I'm sorry. About everything but mostly about the hearing. It's no excuse, but I was pretty upset. If you ever have any time, it'd be nice to talk. Just so I can apologise properly. I'll be home any time if you feel like it. No hard feelings if you don't._

Her frustration at the gall of his text made way for surprise. She leaned back in her seat, ignoring all the noise around her and focusing purely on the words in front of her.

"What's got you looking like that?" Fergal questioned, leaning his chin on Jet's head.

She held her phone over her shoulder for him to read since she wasn't quite sure she had an answer.

He scoffed. "So he can apologise properly? Or so he can flip out on you again?"

"He's not usually good at saying 'I'm sorry' so he must really mean it."

"Are you gonna go out there?"

She shrugged. "It would be nice if we could get on decent terms just so I'd have a chance to see the dogs."

Fergal didn't look convinced. "Well, it's up to you. You're playing with fire though, Juliette."

Before she could reply that she absolutely knew how tense the situation was and that any step could make it infinitely worse, a ginger head was joining them at the table. Sami didn't have his usual grin on; instead he looked suspiciously between the two of them.

"Are you two conspiring? I don't like when you guys whisper, it usually ends with me in some kind of awkward position."

"Nah, it's her old man. He's trying to weasel his way in again."

"Huh? What's going on?"

Jet repeated the process, handing her phone over to Sami so he could read the texts.

"Oh, wow. Well, I guess it's at least better than him sending you horrible texts, right? But… why is he home _any time_? I thought he was in Milwaukee most of the week?"

Jet hadn't even noticed that. It was an odd thing for him to say in light of his hectic MMA prep schedule. "Yeah, he usually is. I don't know."

Fergal and Sami exchanged awkward glances. "Well, uh, we're gonna go," Fergal said, pointing vaguely behind them.

"Thank you," she replied, appreciating their tact.

They always knew when it was the right moment to get involved and when it was the right moment to leave her to it. She waited until they were well away from her and had stopped shooting completely indiscreet looks over their shoulders before she returned her attention to her phone. Now that Sami had mentioned it, she couldn't help wondering.

 _ **Any time? In between Roufusport time?**_

Despite her delay in replying, Phil's answer returned within thirty seconds: _No, any time. I'm not training at the moment, I'm recovering._

She couldn't help herself from immediately texting back, _**Recovering from what?**_

 _Back surgery. Herniated discs are no fun._

She groaned, dropping her phone to the table. Once she had re-read the text to make sure that was what it said, she shoved her phone in her pocket and immediately followed the way her friends had gone. It took a while to find them, mostly due to being waylaid by an assistant who informed her that Hunter wanted to see her before the show started, but she eventually came across Sami in a hallway, taping his wrists.

"Oh dear, that's a face," he grimaced. "What? What happened?"

"He had back surgery, for fuck's sake. And he's recovering alone."

"He's not alone. He's got family and friends in Chicago."

Jet chewed her bottom lip and could feel her eyes watering. "I feel terrible."

"Don't," Sami shook his head. "It's not your fault and it's not your responsibility. I know you still care very much about him, but running out there to play nurse will only give him the wrong idea."

She knew he was right, he always was, but it wasn't as simple as completely ignoring the situation. How would she be able to shake the thought of him in pain and alone in Chicago? She wanted was a divorce but she didn't want him to be completely removed from her life. What if he specifically asked for her help? Could she deny him?

"Strength, remember?" Sami continued, squeezing both shoulders before pulling her into a hug. "You knew this wasn't going to be easy but you committed to it. You committed to being happier. Don't let yourself down."

As far as pep talks went, it wasn't the best. She didn't blame him, there wasn't much he could really say in that situation. "Yeah, I know."

"I can steal your phone, if it makes it easier."

Jet chuckled softly, shaking her head as she blinked away the tears gathering. "Thank you, but I'll manage. Besides, Shane is still texting me multiple times a day, you don't want to have to deal with that."

"No, you're right," Sami grimaced. "He's persistent, I'll give him that."

"You'll find out first hand on Monday. I'm still in denial that you're leaving me, by the way."

"I'll be home on Wednesday and you'll be back on the road soon."

"What about poor Fergal?"

"Oh, please, we both know Ferg will be with us in no time." He squeezed her shoulders again for good measure and skimmed her phone from her back pocket. "You know what you've gotta do."

She did. With a heaving sigh and that feeling of guilt surging back, she tapped out a short message: _**I hope you're okay and that the recovery goes well. Talking right now isn't a good time, I'll let you know if or when I'm ready for that.**_ It didn't feel harsh, like she was cutting him down, but it didn't promise anything either. She was doing the best she could.

There was a slightly longer pause before she received a reply. _Yeah, that sounds good. Thank you._

* * *

 **Thursday, March 10, 2016  
Performance Center – Orlando, Florida**

The PC was fairly busy but there was no mistaking the triumphant voice that was loud enough to be heard over all of them. Hunter's eyes scanned the area, settling on Jet and Fergal in the ring furthest to the back. Both of them were climbing up from the mat with Jet clapping her hands together excitedly. He made his way through, his eyes skimming over the other ring occupants and making mental notes, before he came to a stop at their ring. He rested his arms on the apron and looked in at the two of them.

"Well, what's going on here? You look happy."

Jet tightened her ponytail and glanced briefly at Fergal. She hadn't known the boss would be in so early. "Uh…"

Fergal, not knowing any better, answered honestly, "Turns out she's still an absolute pro at the Dragonrana."

Hunter narrowed his eyes. "Dragonrana," he repeated slowly, then sighed. "Juliette, we spoke about that when you signed."

"I know, I know," she agreed hurriedly.

They'd spoken (debated, more like) for almost an hour when she'd first been signed about which moves she wouldn't be allowed to use anymore and the Dragonrana had been top of that list. The corkscrew shooting star press had initially been on the list too, before she'd proven her proficiency with it. They hadn't even given her a chance to show that she was safe with the other moves, they were just vetoed straight out. She understood why – the risk of head or neck injuries was just too high, no matter how good the performer. They had to balance making safety paramount while not completely destroying her move set and ruining what those who had seen her on the indies were expecting from her. The office figured they toed that line pretty well, judging from her monumental success since then.

"So, what do you think you're doing?"

"I just started thinking it was a hasty decision. Ferg's strong enough to take it all on his shoulders, it's fine! I just really wanted to see if I could still do it."

Hunter pulled himself into the ring by the ropes and made a beeline for Fergal. He pointed at the side of the other man's face, straight at the discolouration on his cheekbone. " _All_ on his shoulders?"

Jet had the sense to look sheepish.

"That was just the first one," Fergal offered up in her defence. "She got it perfect the second time and all the times since."

"Don't encourage this," Hunter groaned. The last thing he needed was to have to explain why his star woman, who was finally on the track to a return, had injured herself again by performing moves she'd been banned from almost five years ago.

"You know her," the Irishman chuckled. "If I didn't volunteer, she'd have tried on someone much less able to catch her if she fucked up. We all like our Juliette in one piece, right?"

Hunter shook his head, knowing that was the damn truth. They could reprimand her all they wanted, she was as stubborn as they came. "So, truthfully, you can still pull it off?"

"Yeah! I mean, it's not quite as tidy as it used to be, but it looks awesome and it's totally safe."

"All it takes is one mishap for someone to get spiked on their head."

"When have you ever known me injure someone else? I'm much more of a danger to myself."

Hunter stared at her in exasperation, his hands moving to his hips. "Is that supposed to make me feel better about this?"

"Yes? No? I don't know. I just wish you'd at least look at it. You've never even seen me do it."

"I watched tape after tape of you before we offered you a contract, Juliette. I've seen you do every move in your arsenal."

"And you were impressed, right?" she grinned. "Wouldn't have offered me a job if you weren't."

"Of course I was impressed. But I also made a mental note to make sure you weren't paralysed before the age of 30."

Jet sighed. He was a hard sell. "Boss, you know me. How many major injuries have I had? How many have come from my ring style?"

"How's your hip?" Hunter shot back.

She huffed. Her hip had bothered her for years, purely because of the amount of torque her body went through. Every other joint in her body hurt but those were just things that came with the business. None of them were in good physical condition once you stripped down to bare bones.

"My hip is fine," she replied. "Matter of fact, it feels all that much better for being put to work."

Hunter shot Fergal a long-suffering glance. The Irishman shrugged in reply. She was simply impossible. "Okay, fine, show me," Hunter acquiesced, waving his hands. "If either of you die doing this, I'll kill you both."

"Uh…"

"Don't say anything, just do it," Fergal advised quickly.

Jet nodded, quickly taking her place on the top turnbuckle. Fergal set himself up in front of her, bracing himself for the move. She met Hunter's eye just for a moment before performing a front flip to land on Fergal's shoulders. Then she executed a picture perfect hurricanrana. She finished by hooking his leg behind her for the mock-pin. She looked expectantly back at the boss, her eyes hopefully.

He tilted his head lazily. "Yeah, fine, it was pretty good."

Was that it? "Uh, so…?"

"So, what?"

"So, does that mean I'm allowed it back?"

"Who said that?"

"Well, no one, but I kinda thought it was implied. Y'know, I pull it off without anyone getting hurt and you give it back to me?"

"I never said that."

"It was kinda implied, boss," Fergal nodded, backing his friend up. Hell, he'd love to see her have her old move set back, it was part of the reason he'd enjoyed watching her wrestle for years before they even met.

Hunter sighed so loudly it drew attention from the rest of the room. "It's not like I can just say, 'sure Juliette, have your dangerous stunts back'. I don't have the authority."

"You're Triple H, I think you do."

"And when someone gets hurt, who's head is it on? Mine. If you want them back, you can come and talk to the office yourself."

It was sly but Jet didn't miss it. A conference in Stamford would put the return fully in motion and it had been avoided for months. Now he'd given her all the incentive she needed. She breathed in deeply and finally nodded. "Yeah, it's time for a meeting."

* * *

The long awaited return is finally upon us!

A lot of people have asked about Jet and April's friendship in reviews and PMs so I figured I'd just put something in here: April will be back soon and their friendship is most certainly not over.

As always, drop me a review to let me know what you think and if there's anything you'd like to see more/less of. I aim to please.


	8. don't call it a comeback

**20/9:** I'm sorry for another email notification. Something glitched with this chapter and I had to reupload. Nothing new to see here.

* * *

I'm so sorry about the last couple of weeks, guys. I got sick and then there was a little writer's block too. But I'm back and raring to go again! I hope you enjoy.

* * *

 **Friday, April 1, 2016  
NXT TakeOver: Dallas  
Kay Bailey Hutchinson Convention Center – Dallas, Texas**

"I am uncharacteristically nervous," Jet admitted.

Sami squeezed her knee reassuringly. "Come on, this is just NXT. Save all your nerves for Sunday. After all, the fans have been waiting on this for over seven months. You've got a lot of expectations to meet."

She stared at him, very much unimpressed. "Wow, thanks. That's exactly what I needed to hear."

"Will be great," Shinsuke assured her, patting her shoulder. "No worries."

" _That's_ what I needed to hear. Thank you."

"No problem," he nodded.

"This is why he's my new best friend," Jet muttered at Sami and Fergal.

"Don't let Sasha or Bayley hear that. They claimed him already."

"It's the truth, right, Shin? I'm your best friend?"

"Is truth," he nodded sagely.

Sami's phone buzzed loudly before he could reply, prompting him to look down. His eyebrows furrowed at it. "Why does your mom keep texting me?"

"Probably because I won't answer her calls anymore. I'm not kidding, she's being insufferable. I left my family in the hotel three hours ago and she's already called me seventeen times."

"Your ma wants to spend time with her daughter over your birthday weekend, there's nothing wrong with that," Fergal shrugged.

"It's not that at all. She's in Mum Panic Mode. She is honest to God terrified of me getting anywhere near the ring on Sunday. I'm not sure what she thinks calling me tons of times while I'm just standing around backstage is gonna do, but I've just had to stop answering. It's driving me crazy."

"She does know you're not actually wrestling, right?"

"Have you met my mother, Ferg? Logic doesn't come into it when she's panicking." Her phone rang in her pocket, prompting an eye roll. "Right on time."

Before she could cut the call off and send another text pleading with her mother to give her some peace and quiet, Shinsuke skimmed it from her hand. "Hello," he greeted, holding the phone against his ear. "Good afternoon. Juliette busy now, very important, please call tomorrow."

Jet could hear her mother's voice getting louder and shriller, undoubtedly wondering who the accented English belonged to and why they were answering her daughter's phone.

"No, no, all fine. She does not want to talk. She running away to circus."

Sami snorted with laughter at Shinsuke's dead serious face.

"Please, please, no yelling. She grown woman and will call tomorrow. Goodbye," he ended the call firmly, giving Carol Madden zero chance to cut back in. He handed the phone back to Jet, smiling calmly. "All done. Must be firm, even with mothers."

Jet jabbed a finger in Shinsuke's direction while looking pointedly at Fergal and Sami. "See? _Best friend."_

* * *

The NXT show had blown everyone's mind, not least because of Sami and Shinsuke's twenty minute classic, but there was one person hovering backstage who didn't seem to be enjoying the atmosphere. Jet first noticed him when Gionna, in another fit of enthusiasm, cornered her down a corridor to talk shop. Halfway through a sentence the young woman suddenly quietened and stared behind Jet with a look that could massacre an army. When Jet laid eyes on Colby, she smirked to herself. He either didn't notice or didn't care. He offered Gionna a lazy smile and the Jerseyite immediately excused herself. Despite the smile, Jet could see in his face that he was struggling with being there that weekend and not being able to take part. She leaned back against the crates behind her, giving him a once over.

"Hey."

"Hey," he muttered back.

She patted his arm awkwardly. "Sorry you didn't get cleared in time. But, y'know, there will be other WrestleManias. And you'll probably headline them all."

He smiled again but it was tight. "Yeah, I guess."

"There's no guessing, I know so. Seth Rollins is gonna be one of the highlights of this company for years to come."

"Thanks."

Jet sighed. "Listen… we've been weird with each other for a while now, I know. Some of that's on you for picking a really shitty girlfriend, but most of it's on me for not respecting your right to pick a shitty girlfriend and for having my head stuck up my own ass about that whole bumping thing. I'm sorry. I guess I was just embarrassed that I'd made such a thing about a back bump for so long. Not to mention, you were right. You have been busting your ass to get back while I was just coasting along. I'm gonna make up for that now, gonna give this my everything and then some."

Colby smiled and it finally looked a little more sincere. "Hey, we've always been cool. Can't blame you for having a monkey on your back, huh? I'm happy for you, you're gonna dive right back in and be just as badass as you always have been. And…" he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, "You were right about the shitty girlfriend. I'll listen next time."

"Oh, no. Do not listen to me about relationships _ever_."

He laughed and wrapped his arms around her, tugging her in to a tight hug as he rested his chin on her head. "How 'bout we both promise not to let petty shit get in the way of our friendship again, yeah? I mean, I kinda love you and that would suck."

She squeezed her arms around his waist. "Deal. I kinda love you too and I really don't like feeling as if we hate each other."

When he leaned back to look her over, he nodded in approval. "You're looking good. Real good."

"Feelin' it."

"Yeah? I'm glad to hear it. Didn't really get a chance to find out last time we saw each other; you looked so pissed at me I thought you might gouge my eyes out."

"Sorry about that. If not for you I probably wouldn't be here right now. Thanks for giving me the shove I needed. Literally."

"This place needed you back to your old self."

"Oh, you're gonna get some of my _old self_ alright. Got some of my old tricks back," she grinned.

"Yeah? Which ones?"

"Psycho Driver."

Colby did a double take. His eyes went wide and horrified as he stared with his mouth open. _"What?!"_

"Oh, c'mon, I'm kidding. Like they'd let me anywhere near any kind of piledriver. You'll have to wait and see, Mister Lopez."

"You're no fun. But, speaking of seeing… you seen Jon yet?"

"Not since I got into Dallas, no. Don't want to be a distraction before 'Mania."

"Fat chance of that. He's gonna find you, kid, whether you like it or not. He's been getting antsy for weeks."

Jet tilted her head. "What has he said to you?"

"Not much. I know you guys hung out in Memphis or wherever. I haven't seen him a whole bunch either but we've talked a little here and there. All I know is, from the time you headed out for Orlando until I jacked up my knee, I saw a dude every day who was fucking miserable."

She looked down at her feet, feeling terribly guilty.

"Hey, it's not your fault," Colby insisted immediately. "You had to take some time for yourself, no one blames you for that. Certainly not Jon. I was just surprised at how hard it all hit him, to be honest. I'm not gonna lie to you, I thought he'd get over you. I thought you'd be out of sight and out of mind, and he'd move on to the next chick. I didn't realise how deep it all went. It wasn't until we were talking, after the Rumble, and he was just so fucking _elated_ to have spent some time with you that I finally understood. You've gotta understand, I rode with the guy day in and day out for our whole Shield time and he went through girls like nobody's business. I'm just happy he's found someone he wants to settle down with finally."

Jet licked her lips nervously. "You don't think we're insane?"

"Insane? For what?"

"To risk this? I'm going through a divorce and we have no idea if this is even something that'll be good for either of us, and we work together…"

"How will you ever know if you don't try?" He nudged their shoulders together and smiled encouragingly. "If it makes you feel better, there's gonna be a draft in a few months. If you guys don't work out, just ask to be on different shows."

She chuckled to herself. "Thanks. I appreciate that you're rooting for us. The _us_ that doesn't even exist yet."

"Of course, I love you guys." He stood up and straightened the bottom of his suit jacket. "I should head out, they wanna do more filming for the 24 thing. But, when I'm cleared, we're gonna run in the ring together a little, okay? I wanna see some of these new-old tricks."

Jet nodded as she hugged him tightly. Of all the people who she could have had a great heart-to-heart with that weekend, she didn't think it would be Colby. "Sure, that sounds great. I've still gotta take Styles up on that offer, too."

"I've wrestled him before," Colby grinned boastfully.

"He'll like me better. After all, we know I'm a better wrestler than you."

He smirked. "You're so lucky I'm still injured or I'd kick your ass."

"You mean _you're_ lucky you're still injured so you have an excuse."

With the leg that hadn't been through rehab for months, Colby literally kicked her in the ass. "Huh, how 'bout that? Still can."

She shoved him away playfully. "Get outta here, loser. You're taking up all my very valuable time." She began to walk backwards, hoping she wouldn't crash into any equipment or people. "Everyone's in town so a bunch of us are getting together tonight. Call me if you wanna come hang."

"I'll probably just hang at the hotel but thanks for the offer. I'll let you know if I change my mind."

Jet shot him finger guns. "Gotcha. Catch you whenever, bud."

She finally turned to look where she was going, searching the walls for the taped up paper that would direct her to the makeshift offices. When she found her bearings, she headed along to where Hunter had set up shop, knocking lightly on the open door when she found it. Hunter looked up from his stack of papers, smiling warmly at her.

"Hey. Just wanted to let you know I'm gonna head out now. Bunch of friends are in Dallas and I've finally got my mum off my case so I'm gonna make the most of it."

He set his pen down. "You know you don't have to run your plans by me, right?"

She shrugged, a little embarrassed. "Habit. Got used to it down in Orlando."

"Well, since you did mention it, _please_ behave yourself this time."

"What do you mean _this time_? I always behave myself."

"The internet hasn't forgotten your trip to Reseda, Juliette."

She smirked to herself. "In my defence, I was behaving myself until those conniving PWG boys convinced me to drink too much. And Candice, of course. She's the worst for it."

"Oh, I've met Candice," Hunter laughed. "She's quite the personality."

"Hm, the kind of personality the WWE Universe would love," Jet added slyly.

"Smooth."

"Worth a try, right?"

"Of course. I'll keep it in mind. You have a good time tonight. Don't forget, you're expected at the Hall of Fame tomorrow so don't get too wasted."

"I'll be good as gold, Boss Man, I promise."

"Hayes wants a talk before the show on Sunday too."

"Okay."

"And you've got Steve's podcast on Monday after Raw."

Jet chuckled to herself. "I get it, I've got a busy weekend. I won't forget any of it."

"Good. Go on, go have fun."

"Aye-aye, Captain," she replied, backing out of the room with a lazy salute.

* * *

 **Saturday, April 2, 2016  
Hall of Fame  
American Airlines Center – Dallas, Texas**

"Don't say anything about Ring of Honor. Don't even think of getting smart when there's a camera on you, got it?"

Adam fiddled with his tie, smiling brightly. "Don't you trust me?"

Jet took over, smacking his hands out of the way so she could perform a quick Windsor knot. "Not in the slightest. Please remember that my employers were gracious enough to let me bring you, and that anything you do wrong will absolutely be held against me."

"Juliette, stop freaking out," Sami, her other date, laughed. He too had been very gracious to not be offended that Adam was accompanying them. "I know you're stressed but nothing's gonna happen at the Hall of Fame. If he starts playing up, I'll put him in a sleeper."

He wasn't wrong about her stress levels. She couldn't help feeling a little anxious about the whole thing. This was her first official WWE appearance in months, with fans in the audience and a slot on the Network. "Good, please do. I'm sure there's a janitor's closet we can stash him in somewhere."

Adam rolled his eyes before looping his arm through Jet's. Sami took the other arm, patting her hand lightly as they stepped through from the foyer into the main area of the American Airlines Center. Jet's anxiety levels weren't helped when she was immediately faced with the prospect of being interviewed by Renee. She could see the other blonde just a few feet away. Sami, one of the only people who knew about Renee's role in _those_ tweets, slid his arm down to squeeze her hand. As the three of them stepped forward, instead of being directed to Renee, one of the production assistants pointed the three of them down along the row of reporters from various outlets. None of them took up much time — and Adam dutifully didn't mention any other wrestling promotion — so they soon found themselves at the far end, stepping up onto the platform with WWE's latest employee, Cathy Kelley.

"Ladies and gentleman, I am joined by former Women's Champion, Jet Madden, former NXT Champion, Sami Zayn, and their date, Adam Cole!"

"Lucky me, right? Check these two out," Jet grinned, inclining her head in either direction.

"All three of you look lovely."

"Thank you! They were both gracious enough to colour-coordinate their ties to my dress."

"And what a dress it is!"

Jet's floor-length gown really was a work of art. It was a Zuhair Murad creation in light blue with a crystal embellished bodice. She felt like a million bucks wearing it, especially with Cathy's enthusiastic compliments.

"It comes with pockets," she beamed proudly.

"You are the only woman who looked at that dress and thought, _pockets_ ," Adam laughed.

"You seriously underestimate how much women appreciate pockets."

"It's true," Cathy concurred. "People also very much appreciate _you_ and it's clear the WWE Universe has missed you immensely. So, is this weekend when we'll finally see you back in action?"

Jet grimaced and shook her head. "Sorry guys. Doc says I'm still about six weeks out from being ready to go," she lied easily.

"Aw, what a bummer. But, of course, we all want to see you healthy."

"I appreciate that. I'm just here to root for this guy," she diverted, squeezing Sami's shoulder. "You're looking at your next Intercontinental Champion."

The interview chanced pace to centre on Sami's role in the ladder match the following day. Jet gave it her full attention but was pleased to not be the focus any more. Adam stepped around her, hovering behind the two of them to stay out of Sami's limelight. While Sami and Cathy were giggling over one of Sami's cheesiest puns, Jet felt a hand on her hip that certainly didn't belong to either of her dates. She glanced over her shoulder, coming face to face with Jon. Before she could speak or move, he was smiling until his dimples appeared.

"You look gorgeous, sweetheart," he said as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. It was all he stayed for, quickly heading off to his seat.

"Well, that was sweet," Cathy giggled.

"He's trying to steal our date!" Sami exclaimed in mock-horror, immediately covering for her.

She was still standing with her mouth half open, not sure of what to say. It was bad enough that going with Sami and Adam had opened her up to the inevitable mocking of two-timing on Twitter, and now the guy she actually _had_ cheated with had made an appearance on camera.

"This is what happens when you're on the arm of the prettiest girl in the building," Adam jumped in. "We're gonna have to fight all the guys off."

Jet smiled and laughed, finally regaining control of herself. She'd been working on taking executive decisions to not care what strangers said about her. She wasn't going to let this bother her. "You're both far too charming."

"Well, I've kept you guys here for far too long. Jet, Sami, Adam, thank you for your time. Enjoy the evening."

The casual mingling went on for longer than Jet enjoyed. She couldn't find Jon's messy head in the crowd anywhere to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing, but Adam and Sami both clearly knew what she was trying to do. It wasn't until the ceremony itself was beginning that Jet spotted him — sitting between someone she didn't know and Joe, a row up from her. She couldn't speak to him while the inductions were going on but she didn't fail to notice him spin his head around whenever there was a lull in his interest, finding her eyes. She made every effort not to look at him, knowing there were cameras recording practically every square inch of the room. Finally, hours later when the ceremony finished, Jet felt able to relax. The cameras and fans would go and they could enjoy the after-party without prying eyes. Besides the prying eyes of their co-workers, that was.

Jet was quite happy to keep to her two dates. They were spoiling her with attention (and drinks) on the pretense of it being so close to her birthday when, in reality, she knew they were just doing their level best to ease her into a more comfortable night. She'd get used to it again, being back around so many people who knew private details about her life, being in the spotlight, being on the go for so long, but for now she was still re-adjusting.

"He's been looking at you this whole time," Adam whispered, leaning across the table toward her.

She didn't need to ask who. "I know. I can feel his eyes on me."

"You want me to tell him to leave you alone?"

"No need, he isn't doing anything wrong." While having both Adam and Sami there with her was wonderful, she hadn't accounted for double the big brother protection.

"I don't like that way he's looking you."

"Adam, stop," she groaned. She looked over at Sami for help and he shrugged. When he wouldn't jump to her aid, she held her empty glass out to him. "Jeez, at least get me another drink if you guys are gonna gang up on me."

While Sami departed to join the queue at the bar, Jet made eye contact with Claudio across the room. He noticed immediately so she nodded her head discreetly in Adam's direction. With a quick explanation to Sara, he stood from his chair and made his way over.

"Adam Cole! It's great to see you!"

With Adam engaged in catching up with Claudio, Jet quickly squeezed the Swiss' arm in thanks and slipped away quietly. Jon was watching her the whole way, his eyes fixed on her face from the second she left her table. She got waylaid momentarily by Shane insisting that she save him a dance but she was soon standing in front of Jon with a lazy smile on her face. She gave him a once over, rolling her eyes playfully.

"Last year your suit was a horrible fit and the year before that your pocket hankie was a mess. This year you're in a great suit but you go and ruin it with the shoes. Honestly," she sighed fondly.

"Well, next year you'll have to dress me, huh? You clearly know what you're doing," he smirked, waving his hand up and down her dress. "Your ass looks great," he added.

She laughed as she took the seat beside him. "Well, thank you. I try."

"Is that how you get two dates? Being dressed like that?"

"I got two dates because Adam Cole doesn't take no for an answer."

"He's been staring daggers at me all night."

"Ignore him, he's just playing tough man. He already admitted to me that he has absolutely nothing against you."

"Yeah, when was that?"

"December, when I was in Reseda."

"You guys talked about me? I'm honoured."

She smirked. "Don't be, Adam pries into every aspect of my life, you weren't a special interest of his."

"Ouch," Jon laughed. "Look, he's staring at us again. So is Zayn." He pointed behind her, waving his hand sarcastically at the two men.

Jet glanced over her shoulder, copying his wave. Both of her dates adopted identical unimpressed looks. "I don't think they're the only ones talking about us."

"So, let's give 'em something to talk about." He stood and offered his hand. "C'mon, let's dance."

"No." She didn't need to make any more of a spectacle than this already was.

"Julieeeette," he drawled, "it's just a dance. I promise I'll take you back to the safety of Sami Zayn right after."

She sighed but acquiesced. "Fine, one dance."

He grinned, all but dragging her out onto the floor. Jet certainly noticed a few pairs of eyes following them but, as soon as his arms were wrapped around her waist, she stopped paying attention. It was so easy to forget herself with him, to forget where they were, to forget everything that had happened. With her head on his chest, she listened to nothing but the music and the sound of his breathing.

Until she couldn't ignore the feeling of a burning stare.

"Renee is staring at us."

Jon didn't look. "Ignore her."

She nodded. If there was one thing she could learn from him above everything else, it was his remarkable lack of concern for what anyone was thinking about him. Her life would be a lot happier if she could find a way to do that. For now, she'd just have to coach herself through the tough spots.

"Doesn't even matter, right?"

"Of course not."

"It's not like she's going to come over here and make a scene. Even if she did, I'd deal with it like an adult and walk away."

"Exactly."

"Besides, I can't change what happened. All three of us did some bad shit but now it's done with. She can either move on or let it keep bothering her. I know which one I'm going with."

Jon couldn't help chuckling.

"Sorry," Jet apologised.

"No, no, if you need to give yourself a pep talk, you go right ahead. Whatever works for you."

She slid her hand under his suit jacket, resting it flat against his back. "Thank you," she whispered against his shoulder. "Thank you for being so patient."

"Got all the time in the world for you, sweetcheeks. Besides, you promised me a talk one of these days."

"I did. We will. I'm back on the road now, it's the best time. We have five days off between Smackdown and next week's Raw, why don't you come out to Orlando and we'll talk there? Or I can come to Vegas, if you'd prefer."

"I can come to Orlando."

"For now, how 'bout you just come to our table, huh?" She unlooped her arms from around his neck, taking a step back. "That was your one dance. Come sit with me and the boys. Your pal will be able to occupy himself with his wife for now, right? He's been doing fine all evening." As a matter of fact, Jet hadn't seen Jon's friend say two words to him since the ceremony finished, preferring to schmooze about the room with his wife instead.

Jon was never going to say no to anything she asked. He let her take his hand and pull him toward Sami and Adam, then push him lightly into one of the vacant chairs. She took the one the other side, smiling innocently across at Adam.

"It's fine, I totally didn't get you a drink or anything," Sami tutted playfully to break the ice. None of them were going to mention the elephant in the room; that was for Jon and Jet to discuss privately.

She took the full glass and swigged down half of it. "Thank you very much, Sami, I hugely appreciate you getting me a drink. I mean, it's totally an open bar and everything, but it means a lot to me that you walked fifty feet to get it for me."

"Is it just me or does she not sound entirely sincere?" Sami asked, nudging Jon in the shoulder.

"Does she ever? Sarcasm is her middle name."

"Truth," Adam laughed.

Jet leaned back, happy the three of them were getting along easily without too much trouble. She hadn't worried much about Sami, he could get on with just about anyone when he wanted to, but Adam could have potentially been a problem. After their less than stellar night in the bar in Reading, she had wondered if either of them would hold a semi-grudge. Apparently, they were both willing to let any harsh words go. She let the three of them get into a conversation, even with most of it revolving around taking cheap shots at her. Her eyes scanned the room, rolling over where Renee was pretending not to glare at their table, across to Shane who performed a strange charade of dancing to remind her of her promise, and then to where Cathy Kelley was hovering near the bar. She wasn't talking to anyone and wasn't ordering a drink either.

Jet waved a hand to grab her attention. "Hey! Come on over, grab a seat."

Cathy smiled, sliding tiredly onto the chair. She didn't look like she'd relaxed since she'd been conducting the interviews at the beginning of the night. "Thanks."

"No worries. How are you? Having fun?"

"Yeah, this is great. A bit weird to not know people too well but it's been awesome so far." She glanced past Jet at Jon, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "A third date. Lucky you."

"What can I say? I'm just too damn charming," Jet grinned.

"She's humble, too," Adam added with a sarcastic smile.

"It's not bragging if it's true," Cathy laughed. "Besides, self-confidence is great. Are you guys jealous?"

With another girl at the table on her side, the conversation ramped straight back up. Cathy fit right in and the 'new-ness' of her was enough to distract the guys so that they weren't focused on the way Jon had leaned over to sling his arm around the back of Jet's chair and rest his chin on her shoulder.

"Look at you," he whispered, "Back for a day and already making new friends."

She turned to smile at him, momentarily surprised at how close his face was. Cathy, Adam and Sami were all discussing the correct order of superiority of the Star Wars films, so none of them were looking or listening. "I know how it feels to be the new girl," she replied quietly. "April looked after me when I first got called up, I'm passing on the favour."

Jon noticed the way her smile faltered at the mention of April. "You guys still struggling, huh?"

She shrugged sadly. "I don't know what to do. I don't want to lose her, I love her, but I can't just sit there and listen to her tell me how much I'm screwing up with Phil and how useless you are. I don't want to hear it. I've told her as much but it's really like she can't help it. I think she thinks that if she doesn't tell me it then she's letting me down or something."

"Of course she thinks that because she's a great friend. She'd feel guilty if I hurt you and she hadn't warned you in advance."

"Are you going to hurt me?"

Jon looked her dead in the eyes. "Never."

She was perfectly satisfied with that answer. "I'm gonna work on it. When I've got a little bit of time, I'll go to Tampa and we'll have a real talk about everything. If it doesn't work out, at least I know I tried my best."

Jon reached down to squeeze her thigh and smiled cheekily. "Atta girl. I mean, if all else fails, I can—"

"Juliette, will you tell this idiot I'm right?" Adam demanded, jabbing his thumb in Sami's direction.

She smiled serenely across the table. "He's right, Sami."

"Do you even have any idea what we're talking about?"

Jon chuckled in her ear as she shook her head. "Not a damn clue."

* * *

 **Sunday, April 3, 2016  
WrestleMania 32  
AT&T Stadium – Dallas, Texas**

The pre-show meeting was long and tedious. The discussion with producers and VPs and writers had gone for close to an hour and they were only just coming to a final decision that everyone seemed happy with. Jet was still on the fence about some aspects of it, but she preferred to just nod and agree so she wouldn't have to sit there for another hour. After all, she did want to spend some time with her family that weekend.

She did, however, have one pressing question: "Is Amy cool with that?"

"Of course she is. Why wouldn't she be?"

Jet grimaced. She hadn't even made eye contact with Amy Dumas in months so she was sure as hell their animosity hadn't been resolved. "We just… uh… I don't think she likes me," she finished lamely. Everyone around the table didn't need to hear the ins and outs of all her personal feuds.

"Well, that's tough shit for her. She's employed here, she'll do what she's told like everybody else," Hunter stated firmly.

She could only shrug. "Okay, if you say so."

"Good," Michael Hayes nodded as he clapped his hands together. "I think that's that, everyone, thank you for your time."

Everybody began to file out of the conference room, going about the million other things that had to be done before AT&T Stadium would be open to the public. Jet stepped to the side of the door in the hallway, ducking her head down to take a deep breath. Finally going through how her night would be had made everything very real.

"Hey." A strong hand came out to her shoulder, prompting her to look up at Hunter. "Don't stress. It'll be five minutes you're out there."

"Me? I'm not stressed."

Hunter stared at her, lifting his eyebrows. "Come on, walk with me and tell me the truth."

"Okay, fine, I'm a little anxious," she admitted as they fell into step beside each other down the hallway toward catering. "Blame my mum, she's getting me all wound up."

"Your mom?"

"Yeah, she's nervous about me being back in the ring. You gotta understand, she was thousands of miles away when she thought I had died. She's not exactly thrilled with the concept of me putting myself in that position again."

"That's a mom thing. You want me to talk to her? I'll explain how safe you'll be."

It was Jet's turn to stare at him with her eyebrows raised. "Boss, my mother has been on this journey with me since I was thirteen years old. She's under no illusion that it's _safe,_ and you could never convince her it is. Once I get through it, she'll be okay."

"Just like you with your bump."

"Stupid bump," Jet muttered under her breath.

"Hey, I know I've nagged and give you a little tough love here and there, but I know how hard that bump was for you. It's been a long, hard road, and getting over those hurdles to refocus yourself takes a lot of willpower. I'm proud of you."

"Jeez, don't get all sappy. You'll make me ruin my make-up."

Hunter reached out with one arm, looping it around the back of her neck to pull her into a slightly rough hug. "Accept the praise, would ya?"

She pushed her hand into his stomach but was completely unsuccessful in shoving him away. "Come on, get off."

"Accept it and I'll let you go."

She huffed loudly. "Fine, you're proud, thank you."

"Good," Hunter grinned as he dropped a kiss to the crown of her head and released her from the quasi-headlock. "Uh, does he belong to you?"

Jet followed his line of sight, settling on the small boy waving erratically at them. She chuckled and nodded, beckoning for him to come over. "Tedster!"

Teddy scuttled over from the table in catering that he'd been occupying with his parents. He beamed up at Hunter, extending his hand. "Hello, Mister Triple H, sir, my name's Theodore. You can call me Teddy."

Jet couldn't believe how far out of his shell he'd come. Hunter smiled very sincerely at the boy as he shook his hand. "It's lovely to meet you Teddy. You can call me Hunter, if you like."

"I'd like to speak to you about a job," Teddy stated, very matter-of-fact.

Hunter struggled to remain straight faced while Jet hid her mouth behind her hand. "Oh, really?"

"Yes, sir. I've decided I'm going to start training like Jet did and I'd like a job here."

That was the first Jet had heard of that. "Hey, bud, it's not that easy. I slaved away for years earning twenty bucks a night, you can too," she told him.

"Tell you what, Teddy," Hunter replied very seriously, "Come talk to me when you're 21, okay? I'll see what I can do."

Teddy didn't seem very pleased at the prospect of waiting another decade but Jet began to shoo him away. "Go on, go back to mum and dad, I'll be there in a minute. We've gotta talk business and I don't want to ruin the surprises for you tonight."

Once her brother was out of earshot, she turned back to Hunter. "So, fifth on the card?"

"Fifth, up after Brock and Dean. The girls will go about fifteen minutes so be ready. I can't hang around to give you your reminders."

"I'll be ready."

Hunter squeezed her shoulder and nodded. "Good. I'll try and catch up with you when you're done if I get a chance. If not, we'll speak tomorrow before Raw. For now, I gotta get going."

"Sure. Hey, if I don't see you before it, good luck tonight. You're getting old now, remember, don't do anything stupid."

"Watch it," he scowled. "Did you tell Shane that too?"

"Oh, absolutely. He's only a little younger than you, after all. He won't listen, though. He's like a hyperactive child off his meds tonight."

Hunter snorted at the very apt description of his brother-in-law. "I will try my hardest not to do anything stupid."

"Good. Catch ya later, Boss Man."

Her family waited very patiently through the goodbye, having already waited patiently for Jet to finish the long production meeting. They understood that this was the busiest night of the year for the company but that didn't make it any more fun to not see their daughter on the eve of her birthday. They could at least have her for a few hours now, right up until it was time to head out to their seats.

"You giving him lip?"

Well, that was a greeting. "What? No, I wasn't giving him lip," she replied firmly to her father. "We joke, it's fine."

"Good. I've told Paul that he's to give you a boxed ear if you act like a child in the future."

" _Paul?_ Since when are you two friends?"

"Since he's been looking out for my daughter," Nigel replied gruffly. "Stop giving him trouble."

"What?! I'm not giving him trouble! I'm being a model employee!"

"Darling, I'm your father. We've had six kids and you are, by far, the most stress-inducing. Always have been."

Jet lay a hand on her chest, looking thoroughly affronted. "This is very hurtful. I was a charming child."

"You were a hooligan child. Sebastian was too, but you took it to another level. Especially when this whole _wrestling thing_ started."

She laughed. "Wrestling thing? You mean the thing that has paid off your mortgage and set me up for life?"

"I mean the thing that nearly killed you last summer," Nigel deadpanned.

Jet paused, unable to counter that point. "Uh, have you tried the chicken? I've heard the chicken is lovely."

Her dad laid off at the insistence of her mother and Teddy immediately explained to his parents that Triple H had offered him a contract as soon as he turned twenty-one. Jet didn't bother to correct him of that notion. Carol was horrified at the idea of another one of her children choosing professional wrestling for a career and couldn't even pretend to hide it. She stopped short of forbidding him; she knew how well that would go down. Nigel wasn't much help for back-up since he was much more interested in the array of food available in catering. He was already on his second filet mignon of the night.

Mid-chew, he stared hard over Jet's shoulder. She turned, her eyes falling on Jon standing almost awkwardly fifteen feet away. "So much for a nice _family_ birthday weekend," Nigel muttered.

"Honey, honestly, she's a grown woman," Carol tutted, resting a hand on her husband's arm. "Leave her to it."

"I won't be long," Jet promised, smiling tightly at her very unimpressed father. "I'll just go say hello." She slid her chair out from the table, pulling a face at Jon when her father couldn't see. She nudged him a little further back toward the door, making sure her family couldn't hear.

"Your daddy looks like he really loves me."

"My dad's protective. The Phil saga hasn't made him very open to men in my life so, don't take this the wrong way, but I'd really rather keep you guys all separate this weekend."

"Is there a right way to take that?" he teased.

"It's not about you, it really isn't. Just… they've been on this rollercoaster with me and I just don't want to put them through another loop, y'know? My mum knows there's something here and she's happy to let me figure it out by myself, but my dad's a different thing entirely. I don't want a grumpy dad on my birthday."

"Hey, I get it, don't worry," Jon assured her. "It's no big deal. But, speaking of family, my sister is here. She's heard a lot about you, she'd like to meet you. I told her not this weekend but maybe we'd do lunch sometime?"

Jet's eyebrows rose all the way up, wondering if she'd misheard. "What?"

"It doesn't have to be any time soon," he insisted. "I know you're just getting back into the groove of being on the road and we haven't figured out what _this_ even is yet, and she knows we're both busy."

"No, no, I mean… you have a _sister_?"

"Have I never mentioned that?"

"No."

"Huh, could have sworn I did. Well, I have a sister."

Jet didn't want to have an in-depth discussion about meeting his family — who she had heard exactly _nothing_ about up until that point — while her father was still glaring a hole in the back of their heads. "Uh, okay. Good to know. Maybe we can talk about that in Orlando with all the other stuff?"

"Sounds good to me. Also sounds like that's my cue to leave."

"I'm not trying to get rid of you, I just—"

"Honestly, I get it," he insisted, smiling sincerely. "It's your birthday weekend and you hardly ever get to see them. Go spend time with your folks and your brother. We'll talk when we talk. I only came over here to wish you luck tonight, anyway."

"Thank you. Good luck to you, too. You're on right before the girls so maybe I'll see you in gorilla?"

"Sure." He leaned down to kiss her cheek, remaining there long enough to whisper, "Your daddy's murdering me in his brain right now," in her ear.

Jet giggled and pushed him away gently. "Get outta here before he really does something you'll regret. He's not a patient man."

Jon winked as he backed out of the room, almost enjoying the eye roll he earned from Mister Madden. Jet returned to the table with an innocent smile. "So, how's that steak?"

* * *

 _The opening noise of sirens was all the crowd needed to erupt._

 _Jet heard the pop as she hovered behind the curtain. She stayed there for a moment to compose herself before she stepped out onto the top of the huge WrestleMania stage. The sea of people and the force of the noise almost had her taking a step back. It was one thing to see the size of the empty stadium and it was an entire other thing to go out there with it full of a hundred thousand people and the majority of them screaming her name. How had she managed to stay away for so long? Now that she was here, she didn't know how she had functioned without this buzz._

 _Once she had soaked up the atmosphere she locked her eyes on the ring. Charlotte and Ric were both gesticulating wildly in her direction, yelling questions about what the hell she thought she was doing interrupting Charlotte's victory celebration. Sasha and Becky, both still on the mat as they tried to recover from exhaustion and disappointment, were also fixing her with confused stares, as was Lita on the outside._

 _It felt like home to be in the ring again. For a long and tense moment, she stared down Charlotte. Ric was still yelling at her, waving his hands animatedly. Jet ignored him, keeping her full attention on Charlotte. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, she smiled and offered her hand. The crowd booed loudly, refusing to accept a heel turn. Charlotte regarded her for a while, looking from her eyes to her hand and back again. Eventually, she settled her championship on her shoulder and reached out to take Jet's hand for a shake._

 _As soon as she had hold of her, Jet pulled and lifted Charlotte onto her shoulders to execute an Argentine cutter._

 _The fans roared their approval. Ric began to advance on Jet but she simply laughed in his face. "I don't hit old men," she smirked. Ric took off his jacket and threw it on the mat furiously, still refusing to take a step back. She sighed. "Alright, if you insist." The sound of the superkick echoed._

 _Sasha and Becky were both staring at her, wide-eyed but amused. With a pointed laugh in Charlotte's direction, Sasha stepped forward to wrap her arm around Jet's shoulders. "Welcome back."_

" _Thanks," Jet smiled._

 _Then she turned and delivered a boot to Sasha's gut, immediately hooking her into a front facelock. As Becky tried to run to the rescue, even with one eye swollen shut, she took an identical gut kick and facelock. After just a second's pause, Jet dropped them both with a DDT._

 _The crowd weren't sure what to make of it all. They appreciated Jet returning to put Charlotte and Ric in their places, but Sasha and Becky too? After they'd already taken part in a hellacious triple threat match? Lita seemed to think much the same way, taking exception to the surprise attacks on Becky and Sasha. She climbed into the ring from her place on the outside, holding her hands out._

" _What the hell are you doing? Who do you think you are?" she demanded._

 _Jet turned her head outward to look at the crowd and shrugged. "Eh, why not?" she said, just loud enough to be picked up by the ringside mics, as Lita ate a superkick identical to the one she had delivered to Ric moments before._

 _She stepped over Lita to make her way to Charlotte, still laid out on the mat. She grasped the belt strap of the Women's Championship and hoisted it above her head. Her music played to the applause and cheers of the crowd so she carefully placed the title back on the mat and slid under the bottom rope to head backstage._

* * *

So, Jet is officially back on the road. This is where things really kick off. Let me know your thoughts on this chapter!


	9. speak for yourself

Thank you for all the continued support on this story. I promise I will get back to replying to the reviews, I've been so lazy about that. For now, let's get on with the adventure.

* * *

 **Monday, April 4, 2016  
Dallas, Texas**

Jet hadn't slept.

The rush of being back out in front of a capacity crowd had her adrenaline flowing so intensely that she hadn't been able to rest. Unfortunately, now that it had finally tapered off, she was exhausted. She was sure she was going to spend the entirety of her birthday attempting not to keel over. Her mother definitely noticed, electing to spend their mother-daughter birthday breakfast just in the hotel restaurant rather than make her traipse around downtown Dallas.

"Celebrated too hard?" Carol asked, taking a sip of her lemonade.

"Yeah, I guess," Jet groaned, rubbing two fingers across her forehead. Despite the painkillers, it was still throbbing. "It's been a long weekend."

"You're happy to be back though?"

"Of course. It was nice to relax in Orlando for a while but it's about time I got my ass in gear again."

"Teddy was showing me some of Twitter last night. People like you."

Jet laughed. "No need to sound so surprised, Mother. I am pretty good at my job."

Carol tutted, lightly smacking her daughter's hand. "I wasn't surprised, I was just pleased for you. I know you were worried that your return wouldn't be as well received as you hoped. It seemed everyone loved it."

"Oh, I'm sure there are plenty of people who hoped they'd seen the back of me. Even around here," she added, her eyes following Mark Carrano as he entered the lobby and quickly made his way to the elevators.

Carol watched Jet's eyes, understanding the half-scowl on her face. "Does he work here? Does he treat you badly? I'll go have a word."

Jet grabbed Carol's wrist before she could leave the table; Carol Madden's idea of 'having a word' would inevitably be very loud and, most likely, end in slap around Carrano's face. Despite being the most sound-minded Madden, Carol had the most intense Mama Bear mode that Jet had ever seen in a person. If she thought her daughter was being wronged by someone in the office, she wouldn't stand for it. After all, Jet could still remember her mother threatening to give Triple H himself a thrashing during WrestleMania weekend two years prior.

"Honestly, it's fine," she swore. "Even if Carrano doesn't like me, I'm close with all his bosses. He couldn't cause me any problems even if he wanted to."

"At least he can't possibly be as bad as Malcolm."

Jet snorted at the reminder of the manager of the McDonalds she worked at as a sixteen year old. She needed all the money she could get to pay for the travelling she was doing to wrestle shows in mainland Europe, so she suffered at the fast-food chain. Malcolm was a creep of the highest order and proceeded to try to make Jet's life miserable when she summarily rejected his perverted advances. His attempts came to a very sharp halt during one late night shift when Tank, her godfather, made it very clear that if he even looked in Jet's direction again, he'd find himself without eyeballs.

"Oh Lord, no one is as bad as Malcolm."

Carol smirked into her lemonade. "You handled him well. At least you have a good boss now, huh? Hunter certainly stepped up."

Jet nodded, smiling fondly. "Everyone calls him my dad these days. He's been fantastic. Poor guy, I've put him through some shit."

"And you've got wonderful friends. It was nice to see Mister Cole around again," Carol continued with a smile. She'd always been especially fond of Adam.

"My friends are great," she agreed.

"How's the rest of your life?"

"What?"

"Well, your job is good and your friends are good. What about the rest of your life?"

Jet rolled her eyes. This was the thing her mother did — she wanted to ask about something specific but didn't want to be the one who actually brought it up. Instead, she'd drop hints for ages until Jet caved and broached the topic herself. "Just say it, Mum."

"Say what?" Carol asked innocently.

"Say you want to hear about Phil and Jon."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. But, since you mentioned it, I have been wondering."

"That's not smooth at all. Honestly, I must get my subtlety from Dad because you are completely incapable of being discreet."

"Oh, humour your mother, will you?"

"There's not a lot to say, Mum. Phil and I are getting a divorce, and Jon and I aren't together."

"Yet," Carol added.

"I don't know. We're going to talk in Orlando, see what happens. I just want to make sure it's the right choice; neither of us have any idea what a relationship with each other would actually mean."

"I want you to be sure it's the right choice too."

Jet could read that voice, she could hear the undertone of warning in it. "What does that mean? You don't think it is?"

Carol shook her head. "That's not what I mean at all. Jon could very well be the person you're supposed to spend the rest of your life with. I just don't want you making a decision like that based on _convenience,_ about who's around more. Love isn't about that, it's about who's worth the hard work. Being with your father wasn't convenient. Grandma and Grandpa never approved, you know that, and I was at university while he moved around for work. If I had worried about convenience, I'd have settled down with one of my father's friend's stuffy sons and you wouldn't exist right now."

"And what makes you think that's it's just about convenience? You don't know about me and Jon."

"No, I don't," Carol admitted. She'd met the boy all of twice. "But I do know about you and Phillip. I know that no matter what you say to yourself, or what routine you go through, or even how you feel about another man, you still love him and you still miss him."

"I never said I don't," Jet mumbled, her eyes downcast. "Honestly, it's my birthday, do we have to do this today?"

"You're leaving for Houston and we're flying home tomorrow. If we don't talk about this now, we won't be able to."

"That's fine by me."

"Juliette," Carol tutted. "He doesn't have to be a taboo topic, you know."

"I know he doesn't." She sighed heavily and took a long drink of her coffee. She was way too tired for this today. "Mum, I'm not going to tell you I don't love him because it's not true. I always have, from the moment I met him, and I don't see that changing any time soon. But I just need to work at moving on."

"If it makes you feel any better, he said much the same. He wants you to be happy."

Jet wasn't at all surprised that her mother was still calling Phil. "I want the same for him." She paused momentarily then asked, "How is he? With the back surgery and everything?"

"He's doing well. Healing up nicely."

"Good. I was hoping all this would make him reconsider fighting."

"No chance," Carol dismissed. "He's set his mind on it and he'll do it. He did ask me to ask if you'd be there."

Jet lifted her eyebrows. "Be there? At the fight?"

"Yes. I told him to man up and ask you yourself."

"What did he say?"

"That he hasn't heard from you and he doesn't want to push it until you're ready."

She chewed the inside of her cheek, nodding at her mother. "It has pretty much been radio silence on my end. I feel bad, leaving him to recover by himself, but you should have heard some of the things he said to me at that hearing. I wanted to make sure that I could talk to him in a civil way before I got in touch."

"Yes, he told me about the hearing, too. You didn't," Carol added pointedly.

Jet avoided her mother's half-glare. "I'm a grown woman, I don't need to tell my family everything. Besides, Dad hates him enough. I didn't need to give him any more reason to want to beat him up."

"Oh, your father doesn't hate him. He's disappointed, that's all. He knows how much you love him and he hoped the two of you would have a long and happy life together. He's disappointed for you."

Jet kept her eyes on her coffee mug, idly stirring another packet of sugar in. "I'm disappointed for me," she admitted. "I never intended to be only be married for a few months."

"I don't think anyone ever does," Carol replied gently, reaching out to stroke Jet's hand. "But, you're a smart girl. You'll make the right decisions."

She scoffed. "I haven't made many of them so far, what makes you think I will from now on?"

"You've never made wrong decisions, Juliette. Marrying Phillip was the right decision. Separating was the right decision too. You just have to decide what the right decision is moving forward."

"Jon," she answered with certainty. "Even if it doesn't work out, I need to do this. Just to know." She paused then added, "I'm just not sure what happens if I find out and it's not what I wanted."

"You'll figure it out when you get there," Carol stated certainly. "After all, there's four and twenty million doors on life's endless corridor. You'll find your way through one of them."

Jet smiled as her mother referenced _The Masterplan._ "Well, this has been a very deep and introspective morning."

Her mother smiled and patted her arm. "Sorry to make your birthday so dramatic. If it makes you feel any better, I've been on Sebastian's case too. It's about time he started figuring his life out. Don't ever say I don't treat my twins equally," she teased.

"Yes, you harass us equally."

"As a mother should. Now, finish your coffee and get some of that food in you. You really have to start eating breakfast, Juliette."

Jet rolled her eyes but dutifully began to fork her eggs into her mouth. "Honestly, twenty-seven and still being told what to eat," she muttered under her breath.

"I heard that."

* * *

 **Monday Night Raw  
American Airlines Center – Dallas, Texas**

" _Jet! Jet, can I get a quick word?"_

 _Jet halted on her way down the corridor as she entered the building, pulling her suitcase to a stop at her side. She looked Renee up and down, waiting expectantly. "Yes?"_

" _Well, we saw you make your return to WWE last night at WrestleMania where you attacked all the competitors in the triple threat match, as well as Ric Flair and Lita. Can you shed some light on what motivated that?"_

" _Charlotte has my title. I want it back. I figured that Argentine cutter made the point pretty clear. Ric… well, you all saw Ric. The guy was asking for a fight and got one. It's not my fault that he's a senior citizen. If he puts himself in the ring and squares up, he's only got himself to blame for whatever he gets dished out."_

" _And, Sasha and Becky? You have well-documented friendships with both women. What made you turn on them?"_

" _Turn on them? I haven't turned on anyone. I'll admit, it wasn't necessary. But, y'see Renee, I was on the shelf for_ months _. I sat around with nothing to do but watch other women take my spot. When it comes to the ring, there aren't any friendships. We all do what we have to do. I want my spot back and I made a point last night. I reminded all of them that Jet Madden doesn't mess around. When she says she's coming for the title, she's coming for it. Even if I have to go through Becky and Sasha first."_

" _How does Lita factor into your quest to reclaim the championship?"_

 _Jet chuckled and tugged awkwardly at her shirt collar. "Hey, even I get a little too enthusiastic now and then. I got caught up in the moment, sue me."_

 _Renee didn't have much to say to that. "Well… welcome back. Good luck in your pursuit of the Women's Championship."_

" _Thanks," she grinned obnoxiously widely as she grabbed her suitcase and continued on her way toward the locker room._

* * *

She paused just outside the camera's view, waiting for the producer to tell her the pre-tape was good so she could leave. She got a nod and a thumbs up so she began to leave again. She was halted by the sound of heels on the floor hurrying toward her.

"Jet!"

She considered not stopping. Still, it wouldn't serve any purpose to ignore the situation. It was a better idea to address it and make it very clear how she felt.

"Jet—" Renee began.

"No," she cut in firmly. "Now, I don't know about you, but I've still got some pretty strong feelings of resentment toward you. I'm trying to be as professional as possible in telling you that I really think it's best if we just don't speak, don't you?"

Renee kept her mouth shut and nodded shortly.

"Good."

That went about as well as Jet could have hoped it would. She carried on with her case, not sparing a glance back. She'd only just made it around the corner when her phone buzzed loudly in her pocket. She considered ignoring it but thought better of it. If it was her mother, she'd never hear the end of missing the message. She paused again, stepping to the side of the hall to grab her phone.

She absolutely wasn't expecting Phil's name to be waiting to greet her.

 _There's something waiting for you at home. Hopefully no one steals it from your porch._

Jet furrowed her brow. She hadn't heard from him in weeks; he had respected her request to just wait and see when she'd be ready to talk.

 _ **All my neighbours are senior citizens, not thieves. How did you get my address?**_

 _It was on the divorce paperwork. Happy birthday, pumpkin._

He hadn't called her that in a long time. It tugged at something she thought she had buried deep enough to ignore. She chewed her lip, suddenly feeling very guilty for not opening the channels of communication sooner.

 _ **Thank you.**_

 _You're always welcome._

She didn't know what else to say to him. Sooner or later they'd have to talk, face-to-face. For now, she was just pleased that he had extended the olive branch.

"You're looking thoughtful."

Jet glanced up from her phone, seeing Hunter approaching. She smiled warmly at him as she pocketed the device. "Me? Nope."

He extended his hand palm up, offering her the cupcake he was holding. "Here. Happy birthday, kid."

"Thank you," she beamed, taking it and swiping her tongue through the yellow icing. "Mm, lemon."

"If anyone asks, I wasn't responsible for getting you hyped up on sugar."

"Of course not."

"Good. C'mon, walk with me. We need to talk and I have all of…" He glanced at his watch, "two minutes."

"Sure, what's up?" Jet asked, falling into step beside him while slowly eating the cupcake.

"Just wanna go through the plans for the next few weeks. Your first televised match won't be until Payback. You'll cut promos on the TV shows from here until then, setting up for a title match with Charlotte in Chicago. We will, however, need you on duty for the European tour."

Jet nodded. She hadn't expected anything else. Actually, she was quite relieved her first matches would be at house shows; if she messed up, there wouldn't be a dozen HD cameras pointed straight at her. "Sure. I'm quite looking forward to a hero's hometown welcome."

"Actually, about that… you won't be on the Manchester show."

"Oh."

"It's the same night as Smackdown and we want you in London for that. You get Malaga, though," he added to soften the blow.

Jet grinned; she had been desperate during every tour for the warmer cities. For once, she was getting the Spain side. "Well, in that case, I suppose I can forgive you."

"Good." He checked his watch again. "That two minutes is nearly up. I gotta go, loads to do. Remember, be ready for the podcast about fifteen minutes before Raw goes off air." He was leaving before Jet even had a chance to say goodbye, heading off to deal with the next thing on his long list of post-WrestleMania tasks. He glanced over his shoulder just long enough to call back, "Nice to have you back, kid."

It was nice to be back. She hadn't been able to avoid Twitter the night before and it had filled her with a surge of confidence that such a large majority were so pleased to see her again. She wasn't unaware that there had been rumours from various sources that she was never going to be medically cleared to wrestle again, so her return had set everyone at ease. Even better, the triple threat match was still getting its due credit. She had worried — and verbalised those worries to Hunter and Steph — that her appearance might overshadow all the hard work Becky, Sasha and Charlotte had put in, but the fans were able to commend the three of them on a stellar match while still gushing over her.

The locker room was her first port of call. She needed to drop off her bag before she found a quiet corner of catering to fill her stomach and hopefully stay out of the way enough to catch a little shut eye. The lack of sleep was catching up on her. Once upon a time she would have been fine to go close to 48 hours before she felt like this, but months of being able to sleep when she liked had made her weaker in that regard. One night without any rest was kicking her butt.

"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Juliette, happy birthday to you!"

Jet took an involuntary step back when she opened the locker room door and was hit by the noise. She grinned to herself during the short serenade and was immediately relieved. She hadn't known how the return to the locker room was going to go but, clearly, they were pleased to see her. She was showered in paper streamers just as Becky reached out to wrap her up in a warm hug.

"It's so good to see you _finally_!"

They hadn't had much of a chance to catch up the night before. As soon as Jet's involvement post-triple threat had been over, Becky was whisked off for stitches, Charlotte for victory photos, and Sasha to her fiancé. Jet had spent most of the evening fighting the urge to yell at Shane; after all, there was no way "I'll be careful" could be construed to mean "I'm gonna jump off the Cell".

"I know, I took my time, right?"

"You can say that again," Trinity laughed. "Seven months girl, where been?"

"I've been getting a tan. Takes us pasty Brits a long time."

"She's not wrong," Paige shrugged.

"You're looking good," Becky insisted. "The time off is probably exactly what you needed."

"I think my time off is what we all needed," Jet replied with a wry smile. She didn't want to kill the pleasant atmosphere but it was better to deal with the elephant in the room now than to let it fester.

"About that…" Nikki stepped forward from her place beside her freshly retired sister, still sporting her neck brace. "We're all sorry. Everything that happened… we were absolute bitches."

"Like I wasn't," Jet snorted. "I literally lost my mind for a little while."

"What Nicole's saying," Brie stepped in, "is that we've all dealt poorly with the situation and it wasn't fair of us to blame you for what wasn't your fault. If we had taken a second to think clearly, none of this would have happened. So, we're all really sorry. We hope we can put it all behind us."

"Of course. And, uh, about Singapore… that was totally out of line. I didn't even mean any of it, I was just pissed off."

"We understand," Paige assured her. "Matter of fact, we probably needed to hear most of it."

"But the point is," Becky cut in brightly, having been on of the few who wasn't in the middle of all the drama those months ago, "Jet's back now, we're all on good terms, and we're gonna rock this joint!"

"Damn straight!" Charlotte agreed. Jet appreciated the enthusiasm to disperse the slightly awkward air in the room. "After all, you're coming for my title, right?" she smirked, patting the championship beside her.

"Coming for it, and taking it."

"Girl, you wish."

"Yeah, you wait and see. Fair warning, I've got some new-old tricks up my sleeve," Jet winked.

Charlotte's mouth dropped open. "Oh, come on, no fair!"

Jet finally took a seat and crossed her ankles, smiling smugly at the second-generation wrestler. "Honey, you've got a storm coming."

* * *

Jet was dutifully making her way to Steve Austin's podcast well before eleven, making sure she was set and ready before Raw went off air. She'd had to drag herself away from catching up with Maryse, following the Canadian's return to help her husband win the Intercontinental Championship. If she had been late, she wouldn't have heard the end of it. A body stepped up beside her as she walked, heading in a similar direction.

Jet smiled across at AJ Styles. "Hey, nice to see you again."

"I heard it's your birthday."

"It is," she nodded.

"How old are you now, thirty-five?"

Her mouth dropped open. "First, how dare you? Second, don't you know to never ask a lady her age?"

AJ grinned cheekily. "So, that means the wrong side of twenty-five?"

She chuckled. "Sadly, yes. Twenty-seven today. Getting dangerously close to thirty now."

"Well, happy birthday. Take it from me, it's all up from here."

"I hope so."

"Y'know, Joe's been telling me about you."

"Joe? Anoa'i?"

"Samoa Joe," AJ corrected. "After I saw you at the Rumble, I asked about you. Wanted to know if I'd get my ass kicked when we finally roll in the ring together. Since Joe's been down at NXT, I figured he was a good guy to ask."

Jet chewed her lip, unsure if she wanted to know what he'd said. She and Joe Seanoa had exchanged pleasant enough conversation here and there but she hadn't attempted to get too friendly with him. He was one of Phil's oldest friends and had undoubtedly heard all the dirty details, if not from her husband then from the gossip.

"Oh?"

AJ either didn't notice her discomfort or elected to ignore it. "Yeah, he said you're one of the hardest workers he's ever seen. He also said you kicked Shane's ass."

She laughed at that. Shane had made good on his threat to show up in Florida during her time off in the hopes of convincing her back before WrestleMania. His pestering had ended in an impromptu match in the Performance Center. Despite the training Shane had been doing in martial arts, he couldn't account for Jet's youth and speed. Besides, he was the one who said not to hold back. It was his own fault that he took a stiff kick to the jaw and ended up needing a couple of moments to recalibrate his brain.

"He's not wrong," she smirked.

"I'll keep my wits about me when we get in the ring."

Jet held it together, making sure no awkward giggle escaped her this time. She could be an adult, dammit. "You should. You never know when I'll strike. You may not know this about me, but I actually hit a pretty mean Spiral Tap."

AJ gasped dramatically. "Move thief."

She shrugged. "Gotta do what you gotta do. Don't invent cool things if you don't want them stolen." She nodded her chin behind AJ's shoulder. "Looks like there's a runner for you."

He looked down at his watch, nodding rapidly. The poor young kid seemed far too starstruck to actually approach AJ. "Oh, yeah, I've got a main event to go to. You have a good night, Juliette."

"Thanks AJ, you too."

She appreciated that he had gone out of his way to wish her a happy birthday and let her know the nice things Samoa Joe had to say about her. With a smile on her face she continued on to where she knew the podcast was set up. She could hear the crowd behind her, popping loud for the entrances to the fourway match. Steve wasn't there yet so she set herself up behind the cameras by the wall, quickly sending her mother a text to let her know she'd be back at the hotel as soon as possible. She was hanging out in Dallas for the night so she could see her family off in the morning before doing the drive down to Houston.

She felt a nudge at her side as a shoulder came into contact with hers. She glanced across, catching Jon's eyes.

"Hey, I've been trying to find you all night."

She leaned back against the wall, smiling softly. "I've been around. Shane's all beat up, I've been helping him out. And, y'know, everyone's wanted to welcome me back and everything."

"You're a popular woman." He held out his hand, offering out the small box. The colour immediately gave away that it was from Tiffany. "Come on, don't leave me standing here like an idiot, take it."

"You really didn't have to do this."

Anyone spending any kind of large sum of money on her made her feel guilty, purely as a hangover from her less than affluent childhood. There wasn't just one thing in the box, either. When she took it and popped open the lid, three charms were waiting for her.

"I wanted to," Jon shrugged. "I know jewellery's lazy but it was the best thing I could think of. Figured you could add them to the bracelet."

She rested a hand on his arm. "It's lovely," she said sincerely. "Thank you."

The first charm was a crown.

"Self-explanatory, right?" Jon chuckled. "Queen of the ring."

"There are some ladies in the locker room who'd like a word with you."

The second was a four leafed clover.

"You really deserve some luck from now on. Maybe with that on you won't break your head again."

Jet chuckled under her breath, thinking she probably needed more than luck. Divine intervention, more likely. She carefully lifted the last charm in the box, smiling at the honey bee.

"Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee."

"Does this count as encroaching on Shinsuke's gimmick?" Jet mused. "The Bomaye, Kinshasa, whatever they're calling it now, that's his."

"I'm sure he won't mind. After all, you're his best friend, right?" Jon teased.

"I told you I would be. He's the coolest."

Before Jon could continue the conversation, one of the production assistants was patting her lightly on the arm. "Jet? We need to get you mic'd up."

"Right, sorry." She turned to Jon, passing him back the box. "Keep that safe for me while I do this?"

"Sure. We still on for Orlando?"

She nodded. "Of course. We'll talk about all of it on Wednesday."

"Good." He leaned in to kiss her cheek quickly before she was hurried off to be prepped for the podcast. She winked as she went, leaving him standing like a smiling goof in the hallway.

* * *

"Turns out I lost our little bet."

Jet had been hooked up to the microphones and had settled into her seat when Steve arrived. She looked at him in confusion. "Our bet?"

"Yeah. We ran into each other in… Oklahoma, I think it was. I bet you a hundred bucks that I'd get you on the podcast before 2015 finished."

Jet chuckled, the memory coming back to her. Before she could reply he was already fishing his wallet out of his pocket and laying notes on the table in front of her. "Steve, really, it's cool."

"A bet's a bet, lady. Take my money."

"Well, if you insist," she laughed, stuffing the notes into her bra.

It earned her a tut from one of the assistants who had to quickly rearrange her microphone before they received the thumbs up that they were about to go live. Steve did his introduction, the camera exclusively on him, while Jet wiggled a little more to get as comfortable as possible. Just as Steve turned his attention to her, she straightened up and adopted a bright smile.

"Miss Juliette, welcome to the podcast."

"Thanks for having me, Steve."

"I wasn't sure when I'd get you in here, you've been away a long time."

She chuckled awkwardly. "Yeah, I guess I have. I didn't intent to be away for seven months, honestly."

"How long were you recovering from the fractured skull?"

"Hm, about ten weeks. The doctors said I could go back to training after six weeks but I was under strict orders from Hunter to make sure I was absolutely one hundred percent before I risked any more damage."

"You one hundred percent now?"

Jet knocked her knuckles against the base of her skull. "Yep."

"How was the recovery? Hard?"

"Not really. The worst part of that was being stuck in the hospital in Brooklyn. I had a cerebrospinal fluid leak and because of the increased risk of meningitis I had to stay until they were sure it was under control. Then I wasn't allowed to fly. The pain itself was gone within the first week, though. Once I was back in Orlando, the mental recovery was far more difficult than the physical one."

"Give us some insight into that," Steve requested. "You struggled with getting back in the ring?"

"Massively. The skull fracture was pretty much my first real _major_ injury in the ring. I don't remember it happening but I've seen the video enough times to know it could have been much worse. I know a lot of wrestlers say this, but once you get hurt like that you suddenly lose your sense of invincibility. It's not nice getting a stark reminder that we're all human and our line of work is incredibly dangerous. I struggled for months to take a bump. Everyone worked so hard with me, they were so patient, but I just couldn't do it. Every time I tried, I freaked out. It was not fun, I can tell you that."

"Well, since you're back now, I assume you got over that fear."

Jet chuckled. "Seth Rollins got me over that fear. He showed up one day, completely tore me out, and then shoved me over. I wanted to kill him at the time but he really did me a favour."

"When did you get over bumping?"

"Uh… Early February?"

"So, you had a couple of months between that and coming back last night."

"Yeah, I was working on shaking off that rust. Took a little while to get my groove back."

"Have you had a match?"

"I've had practice runs in the Performance Center. Nothing intense, Hunter didn't want to risk anything putting the return back, but I had a couple of ten minute roll arounds, getting the joints loose, the usual."

"Your relationship with Hunter garnered a lot of attention after SummerSlam. Everyone could see how concerned he was."

"Well, I nearly died in front of him. I'd be offended if he wasn't worried," she laughed. "Everyone knows he's my Wrestling Dad at this point. A lot of us have them — people who have been a parent or sibling figure in the wrestling world. I've had a Wrestling Mum, I _am_ a Wrestling Mum, I've got a Wrestling Dad. It's just how it works out. It's funny really since we were on the worst terms ever less than two years ago. Miscommunication is maybe a problem of mine."

"Funny, plenty of people have said that about your husband, too."

Jet visibly winced. She knew Steve would want to broach this but she still wasn't quite prepared for it.

He noticed her discomfort but pressed on. "Your personal life has been in the spotlight for quite some time now."

She chuckled mirthlessly. "You can say that again. Ever since Someone-Who-Won't-Be-Named blurted my darkest and deepest to the whole company, I feel like I haven't had a bit of privacy. My personal life was never intended for public consumption. I do accept that this is a side effect of the job I chose, though. When we're on the TV every week, and we have Twitter and Instagram and whatever else, people feel like they have a real connection with us, they're genuinely invested in our real lives. I didn't do myself any favours by blurring the lines between the real and the fake, I suppose. Things on TV ended up real and vice versa."

Steve nodded along, jumping on the opportunity. "That was never as true as last summer in Singapore."

Jet pulled a face straight down the camera. "Ooh, Singapore. That was… not a good time for me."

"The video made the rounds in _minutes_. Completely unplanned?"

"Completely," she confirmed. "There was no way I'd have got away with that kind of language, foreign audience or not. I got a real bollocking afterward."

"So, what was going on there?"

"I had a lot on my plate," she replied tactfully, "and I wasn't dealing with it very well. I was getting heat for my pay, the perks, my spot, and it all just kind of boiled over. I never came into this business for the money. I'm pretty sure very few of us ever did. I'm here because I love it and I get a sick thrill from risking my life daily. I took exception to how I was being talked about and I exploded. Thankfully, it's all behind us."

"That's not the last time you've _exploded_. Your suspension—"

"My suspension was fully deserved and something I don't want to talk about," Jet replied firmly. It wasn't that she cared about discussing what she'd done to Zahra, but she wouldn't touch on the subject of the tweets about her miscarriage. That was hers, not something she'd open up to the public about. Maybe one day, but not right then.

Steve tread carefully, knowing he ran the risk of her killing this podcast. "Understandable," he nodded. "The root of the suspension…" He paused to ensure that Jet caught on that he was talking about the tweets, "Were they all true?"

"Sort of," she allowed. "I wasn't having sex with anyone behind my husband's back, if that's what you're asking."

"I wouldn't presume to be so rude to a lady," Steve chuckled, trying to set her at ease.

"Believe me, I've heard far ruder. There were things going on that I'm not proud of. The tweets never should have gone out because she knew absolutely zero about the situation."

"How is the situation now? Of course, you've always been Jet Madden here, but are you still Juliette Brooks?"

"Legally, yes. I'm single but still a Brooks." She smiled wryly. "If you don't mind Steve, that's something else I'd really rather not talk about. I know I'm disappointing people who want to know the nitty gritty but I don't think it's fair to talk about him. He's done nothing wrong, he's a good man, and it's our business. I'm open to pretty much everything else, except Phil."

Steve didn't miss a beat. "Sure. We're here to talk about you and your career, not CM Punk."

She smiled thankfully and finally relaxed into her chair. The worst part was over. Steve happily launched into questioning her about her roots, how life was in Manchester, how she started wrestling, and everything else that led up to her relocating as a barely-adult to the United States.

"What was the hardest part for you during your training?"

"Hm… probably learning to take care of the other person. I was a scrappy kid from a scrappy place. My brothers and godfather made sure that, from a young age, I could take care of myself. They taught me how to make sure people took me seriously, y'know, like, if you try something then I can knock your teeth down your throat. It took me _months_ to learn how to properly pull a punch and protect someone's head. It was a hurdle since I had that instinct in me, but I got there."

"I honestly expected you to say that the flippy shit was the most difficult thing," Steve laughed.

She chuckled too. "Nah, the flippy shit was actually pretty easy. Once you do the first thing, it's not that scary anymore. I've always been agile and flexible so my first coach's idea to make me a high-flyer seemed sensible. I mean, I'm all of five-five, I don't think many people would take me seriously as a brawler, no matter how much of one I actually am. Circus tricks seemed the best thing for me. Once we'd covered moonsaults and the like, we graduated onto the more difficult stuff. It was all a bit hit and miss for a while but, by the time I was seventeen, I could hit the sweetest corkscrew shooting star press you'll ever see in your life. Fight me, Neville."

"I researched you pretty hard so I've seen a lot of your old tapes. There is something surreal about seeing a tiny little girl pulling that off, I havta admit."

"It's a little surreal doing it. I'm always struggling with where to draw the line between the stuff that's super cool and the stuff that's going to shorten my life considerably. Like, I wanna do the crazy spots, I wanna make people jump out of their seats in shock, but I also wanna be able to walk in twenty years. I don't want a dozen concussions behind me."

"That is something that I wanted to discuss with you," Steve began, clasping his hands together. "Do you think your style of wrestling lends itself to a long career?"

"Absolutely not. My hips hurt, my knees hurt, I'm sure every other joint in my body will hurt soon. Eventually I'm going to have to tame myself, dial it back a bit, but for now I'm just loving what I'm doing."

"Any regrets? You've had a long and storied career already and you're not even thirty."

"Sure, who doesn't have regrets? I regret never going out to work full-time in Japan. I regret not seeing enough of Mexico. I regret not taking more European bookings after I came to the States. Of course, they're only half-hearted regrets. If any of those things had happened, I would be right here right now." She didn't need to touch on the regrets in her personal life. That list was far too long.

Perhaps sensing a slight dip in her mood, Steve pressed on. He went back to her relationship with Hunter and brought Shane into the mix, asked her about the run-up the the previous year's WrestleMania and how all that had come about, and what she thought of how the division had been held together in her absence. She had nothing but wonderful things to say about her bosses and the other girls, and she could tell it bothered Steve. Since he wasn't getting the juicy news on Phil, he wanted something else. He wasn't above digging.

"You're beautiful, you're smart, you're talented, and you're friendly. There has to be something wrong with you. Someone has to hate you."

Jet laughed loudly. "Oh, there's plenty wrong with me. I have all kinds of emotional issues. I hold grudges. I can barely take care of myself. I act like an overgrown toddler far more than is remotely acceptable. I self-sabotage. People put up with my shit and I'm very thankful for that. I've been working hard at fixing those things but it doesn't happen overnight, y'know? As for people hating me… you don't know the half of it. Some people hate me for something that they've held onto for years. Some people hate me because they got the wrong end of the stick and don't want to be corrected. Some people hate me for reasons I don't actually even know."

"Who's that?" Steve grinned.

"Oh no, not a chance. I say the name, I get fired."

He laughed, knowing there was no way she was risking her spot just to name and shame one of the executives. Before he could even considering delving deeper into the subject, Kevin Dunn was motioning at them from behind the camera.

"Well, we're getting the go-home sign, kids."

Jet shot Steve an amused look and he immediately understood that the man she was talking about was right there in front of them. He smirked to himself as he did his goodbyes, thanking her for being his guest, and closing out the podcast. As soon as they got the thumbs up that they were off-air, Jet pulled her microphone off.

"I shoulda known," Steve chuckled, keeping his voice low. "Ignore Dunn, he's an asshole."

"You got that right," she agreed. As she tried to avoid Dunn's obviously annoyed glare, her eyes fell back on Jon. He'd hung around for the entirety of the podcast, apparently listening intently to what she had to say.

Steve followed her line of sight and seemed to nod to himself. He pushed his chair in closer to her, keeping himself quiet. "For what it's worth, I understand how difficult Punk can be."

She broke eye contact with Jon to glance at the Texan. "Believe me when I say I am far more difficult."

"I spoke to him recently." It seemed everyone beside Jet was speaking to her husband. "He sounds pretty… well, _miserable_ , to be honest."

She bit the inside of her cheek, not sure what to say to that.

"I'm not trying to make you feel guilty," he added. "I understand where you're sitting too. You oughta give that poor boy over there a chance," he nodded toward Jon. "If it doesn't work out, at least you'll know. There are plenty of other paths in life."

Jet squinted at him, a small smile playing on her lips. "Have you been speaking to my mother?"

Steve laughed and eased up his hunched over shoulders, letting his voice rise in volume again. "I'm sure your mother knows best, Juliette. Just remember," he continued, standing from his chair and straightening his shirt, "the most important thing is that you give _yourself_ a chance." He started to walk away before she could properly process what he was saying to her. It was vague but she didn't doubt that he very much had a strong inclination of which way she would end up going.

If only she did.

* * *

Next chapter will be the long awaited talk between Jet and Jon, I promise. We'll see Phil again soon, too. Maybe a couple of chapters down the line. While you're waiting on that, go ahead and drop me a review!


	10. it's a shot in the dark

Once again, sorry about the delay on this chapter. I'm going through some intense writer's block. I did mean to upload this last night and then completely forgot. It's short (and crappy) but I hope you guys enjoy it despite all that.

* * *

 **Wednesday, April 6, 2016  
Orlando, Florida**

Jet almost forgot she was waiting for a guest. She wanted to toss her bags in the living room and collapse either on the couch or into her bed, and sleep off the last week. She was free until the following Monday, at which point they'd have TV and then the long European tour. She needed to get her sleep in while she could.

But she had to wait on Jon.

He hadn't been able to get a seat on the same flight into Orlando so had settled for the one after. She had a couple of hours to kill. She lugged in the fairly big box that had been left in her enclosed porch, the post stamp showing it was Phil's gift from Chicago. She left it on the coffee table and rolled onto the couch. Just resting her eyes for a moment wouldn't hurt.

A moment turned into three hours and then her phone was buzzing loudly right beside her head.

Her eyes snapped open as she breathed in sharply, her hand reaching out blindly for it. She opened the text, giving her eyes a moment to adjust to the light.

 _Just landed. You at pick up?_

Jet cussed under her breath. She had promised she'd collect him from Orlando airport as soon as he got in. _ **Shit, fuck, sorry. Still at home. I'll leave right now.**_

Just as she was rushing toward the door for her keys and shoes, her phone lit up with another message: _Don't worry about it, I'll get a cab._

 _ **No, no, I'm coming**_ , she tapped back rapidly.

 _Juliette, I'm in a cab. I'll be at your place soon._

She sighed and kicked off the one shoe she'd managed to get on. Her home wasn't very far from the airport so she didn't have long until he'd get there. The least she could do was tidy up a little. She moved her suitcases upstairs to the laundry room so she could start washing later, and straightened up the living room. She moved the parcel off the coffee table, sliding it underneath instead. Just when she was in the middle of opening the deck door to air the place, she heard the knock.

She felt a giddy sort of nervousness.

He was smiling tiredly when she pulled the door open, one bag slung over his shoulder and the case at his side.

"Come in, come in. I'm so sorry about the airport! I was just going to rest for a bit but then—"

"Don't worry about it," Jon insisted, not fighting her when she took his bags and left them to the side of the door. "You're tired, that's not a good way to drive. Taking a cab didn't kill me."

" _I'm_ tired? You had a brutal match with Brock a few days ago," she reminded him, waving him over to the couch. "I feel like an asshole."

"Stop fussing," he chuckled. "Believe me, that match would have been _way_ worse if I had my way."

She sat beside him, curling one leg up underneath herself. "Worse? That's not a good idea."

"No, Brock didn't think so either," Jon replied, his voice not hiding his annoyance. "He wouldn't work with me, didn't want to do anything. The match could have been so much better."

"Brock can be…"

"An asshole?"

"I was going to say _difficult_ , but sure."

"It's about you."

"Wow, thanks," Jet grimaced.

"Hey, I'm not blaming you for a shitty match. I'm just saying, he doesn't like me because of you. Well, because of Punk, I guess. Same thing."

"Brock's pretty loyal. Can't fault him for that."

"I can fault him for being a giant waste of space," Jon grumbled. He halted himself before he said anything else; that was her friend, after all. "Eh, forget it. We're not here to talk about work."

"Uh, no, we didn't." She scratched the back of her neck, suddenly very uncomfortable. It was easy to put a time and place on this conversation, but it very much _not_ easy to actually get into it.

Jon took pity on her and didn't force the situation. Instead, he nodded at the large box half out of view. "Birthday present?" he asked.

Jet nodded. "From Phil."

Jon's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. "I didn't know you guys were on gift giving terms again."

"Neither did I, to be honest. He's been trying to make amends, though. He wants to talk, to apologise."

"Why don't you open it?"

Jet glanced between Jon and the box. "Now?"

"Sure. You don't what to know what it is?"

Of course she wanted to know but something about opening her husband's gift in front of him made her uneasy. Jon, however, seemed supremely unconcerned about the situation. Rather than make it weird, she went to the kitchen and returned with a knife. She set the box back on the coffee table and began slicing open the tape. Inside was a mass of packing peanuts and bubble wrap. She pulled the large item out and began to unwrap, then laughed.

A 10-inch high working model of Cogsworth was smiling at her.

"Okay, that's creepy. What the hell is that?"

Jet glanced at him. "Dude, it's Cogsworth. From Beauty and the Beast. C'mon, _Cogsworth_."

"Yeah, don't know what you're talking about, still creepy."

"This is adorable." She went about putting in the AA battery it came with and setting the correct time before she placed it up in the direct centre of her mantelpiece. "Looks perfect," she announced, smiling broadly.

"Why does it have a face?"

"Because he's a person."

"He's a clock."

"A person who got turned into a clock. Honestly Jon, do you know nothing?"

"About Beauty and the Beast? Yeah, pretty much nothing."

"We'll get to it one day," she promised, heading back to the couch.

She moved the box to the ground, intending to throw it out later, but she heard something shift inside. It sounded hard, not like the protective packing. She reached in her eyes widened as she pulled out a CD that was instantly recognisable.

"Oh, wow."

"What is it?" Jon asked, leaning in closer.

"It's the 2014 re-issue of What's The Story Morning Glory. It's my favourite Oasis album but I never got a chance to get this one. It's got some of the live versions and B-sides." She flipped over the case to read the track listing and found herself laughing. "Oh Lord, how did he manage that?"

Jon glanced over her shoulder, seeing two scribbled signatures. He could just about make them out as Noel and Liam Gallagher. Jet was in fits of giggles when she saw, next to Noel's signature, he had drawn a crude version of Manchester City's club crest.

"That your team?" Jon questioned, pointing to the vaguely eagle-shaped sketch.

"God, no!" She sounded horrified at the suggestion. "My team's Manchester United. City is theirs. We hate each other, that's exactly why he drew it. I can't believe Noel Gallagher even knows who I am, much less which team I support."

Jet's eyes roved over the tracks and fell on _The Masterplan_. She didn't at all believe it was simple coincidence that her mother had referenced the song two days prior. She'd been in on this gift with Phil the whole time. She set the case on the table, fully intending to listen to the whole thing later.

"Looks like he did well."

Jet didn't hear the slight edge of resentment in Jon's voice. "Yeah, I guess he did. I'm pretty easy to buy for, though," she added. "I like everything."

Jon looked between the clock, the CD, and her face. He needed to know. "Do you still love him?"

Jet almost scoffed. What an innocent question that he obviously didn't understand the depths of. She wasn't going to lie to him, not even to spare his feelings. Lies had never served her well. "Yes."

"Oh." Jon's eyes went to his hands, obviously unsure of how to process that.

"He's my husband, Jon. It's not as simple as moving away and hoping I'll just forget about him."

"Even after how he treated you at that hearing? The things he said?"

"He didn't mean any of them."

Jon shrugged. "If you say so."

"He didn't," she replied firmly. "He says horrible things when he's hurt because he doesn't know how else to deal with it. I, of all people, can't be mad about that. I've done far worse to expunge bad feelings."

There was a prolonged silence while Jon considered it all. Jet knew that he didn't know what to do with any of this information, with this completely backwards situation.

"This is why we needed to have this conversation. You want to jump right into this and you don't even know what you're jumping into."

"You. I'm jumping into being with you."

"It's never that simple," she replied gently. "Believe me when I say that I want this too, but you have to understand that Phil is still very much a part of my life. We're still married, I still care about him, I can't pretend I don't. Even when the divorce goes through… I want to be his friend. You need to know all that now."

"And I'm fine with all that," Jon stated firmly. "Be his friend, I don't give a fuck."

"You say that now."

"Look, I can't predict the future. I don't know when that divorce is gonna be finalized, I don't know how you two will be with each other afterward, I don't know if I'll fucking despise the idea of you being friends with him. All I know right now is that it's worth finding out."

Wasn't that the whole point of all of this? To find out if there was a future for the two of them? To find out if a relationship with Jon was what she wanted? She smiled softly, reaching out to hold his hand. "I want that too. I want to find out. I just… you have to understand where I'm coming from. I need this to go at my pace."

Jon squeezed her hand. "Slow," he nodded. "As slow as you like."

"I know it's been months and I don't want you to feel like you're getting played or something and—"

"Hey," Jon cut in, moving closer on the couch so he could gently rub his thumb over her cheek. "I don't feel like that at all. I feel like I've got an amazing girl in front of me right now who I _love_ and all I gotta do is not rush her. That doesn't sound so bad to me."

She leaned into his hand. "You're a good man."

"Hey, it's in my name," he grinned.

"You're also a very cheesy man."

"You like it though, right?" he grinned, dropping his hand from her face so he could dig into her ribs.

She squirmed at the tickling, batting her hands at him. "Don't push your luck."

He scooped his arm around her waist, tugging her closer. "Does going slow mean I can't kiss you?"

Jet pretended to consider his question very intently. "Hm…" She leaned close to his face, their noses almost touching. "I think I can allow that."

For once, she was the instigator. Even during their scripted kisses, he had always been the one to take the plunge. This time, Jet caught his lips with hers and held onto the back of his head. His hands tightened on her hips and she felt his smile against her mouth. It didn't last long, just enough to leave them both feeling warm inside their chests.

He leaned his forehead against her. "I missed that."

"You taste like smoke."

Jon laughed and could do nothing but shrug. "I have a cigarette outside the airport. Gotta steel the nerves somehow, right?"

"Yes, because I'm so frightening."

"Have you seen yourself in a mood? You can be deadly."

"Wow, you're bringing the romance already," she snorted, shoving him away.

"Oh, just you wait." He glanced over at her ridiculous new clock to check the time, surprised that it was already the late evening. He was usually unconscious by now, all too ready to sleep off the effects of five days of travel.

Jet followed his eyes, coming to the same realisation. "You should get some sleep."

"Yeah… uh…" Jon trailed off, not sure where to go from here.

"I've got lots of guest rooms," she offered.

Jon understood the message loud and clear — _we are not sharing a room._ "Thanks. Point the way."

She gestured vaguely at the stairs. "Any of them besides the one at the end of the hall, that's mine. Don't go snooping."

"Got some secrets in your bedroom, Juliette?"

She grinned. "Like you wouldn't believe."

Just as he was heading up with his bags — and planning how to discreetly search her bedroom for anything blackmail worthy — she called out to stop him.

"Hey, would you be okay to occupy yourself for a few hours tomorrow?"

"Sure," Jon nodded. "What's happening tomorrow?"

"I wanna go see April."

Jon almost grimaced but managed to reign it in. "Yeah, no worries."

He continued up onto the landing, picking the room closest to Jet's. He left his stuff near the dresser and looked around. The whole place was furnished and the bed looked practically brand new. As he flopped down, he groaned in delight. King sized memory foam was _everything_. He settled in, deciding to just shower off the travel day whenever he woke up, and briefly hoped that April wouldn't ruin the progress they'd made as he slipped into sleep.

* * *

 **Thursday, April 7, 2016  
Tampa, Florida**

Jet could do the drive between Orlando and Tampa in her sleep. It was good skill, since her mind was everywhere except on driving. They drifted initially between Jon and Phil, and then onto the task at hand. Since getting to know Cathy Kelley over WrestleMania weekend, she'd been hung up on thinking about April.

She missed her.

It wasn't like they'd not spoken; they would text often and exchanged phone calls every few days. The problem was the obvious undercurrent of tension. They hadn't had a _real_ conversation in months. No matter what April had to say about her personal choices, Jet didn't want to not have her around. For once, she was going to take matters into her own hands rather than let them fester.

About ninety minutes later, she was pulling up outside April's house. She remained in the car for a moment, tapping her fingers lightly against the steering wheel. She noticed one of the neighbours peeking through the curtains and she immediately made a resolution that she needed to buy a less conspicuous car for just casually driving around in. The i8 was a beautiful thing but it did tend to draw attention.

She rapped her knuckles on the door, really hoping that April would be home rather than make this a wasted trip. Within thirty seconds, the door was pulled open.

Jet smiled a little uncomfortably. "Uh, hi."

April looked surprised. There was a moment of silence before she glanced straight past Jet and lifted an eyebrow. "That car is ridiculous in a quiet residential area."

Jet grinned. "I was just thinking the same, actually."

April pulled the door open wider. "Come on, come in before someone mugs you for the keys."

"Thanks." Jet shimmied in and made her way to the couch when April waved her in that direction. "So… how are you?"

"I'm great. What about you? How was your birthday?"

"It was awesome."

"I saw your return on Sunday. You looked fantastic."

"Thanks. Feels good to be back."

"I bet superkicking Amy felt pretty good too."

Jet smiled slyly. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"Who's idea was it? Yours?"

"Actually, no. Hayes brought it up."

"And you loved it."

"I certainly didn't argue."

"Did you speak to Amy about it?"

"Nope. We haven't exchanged two words in months. Dunno who told her but she did what she had to do without me getting any snide remarks. Maybe she knew I was on Steve's podcast the next day and she didn't want to risk me saying anything about her."

"I watched that too," April nodded. "You handled it all well."

"Thanks."

"Yeah."

A silence fell then. It wasn't awkward exactly but Jet didn't like it. Silences weren't usually a thing between them; they could carry a conversation on the back of nothing and keep going for hours. Rather than let the quiet fester, she scooted along the couch and nudged April in the shoulder.

"I've missed you, y'know?" she pouted.

April smiled and nodded. "God, I've missed you too. We've been so stupid."

"You can say that again. I shouldn't have flipped out on you for having an opinion. I know you're just trying to look out for me."

"I shouldn't have been such an ass about it. You're a grown woman and you're in charge of your life. I'll be here for you no matter what. If it works out with Jon, I'm so happy for you. If not, I'll help you figure it out. Just, Jesus, please be my best friend again."

"I never wasn't your best friend. I was just being stubborn."

"Right, tell me everything I've missed."

Jet took that instruction very seriously. Every minuscule detail over the past couple of months was delved into, from finally getting back into the ring, to her wins at bingo with her senior citizen neighbours, to how things had been going with Phil, and to the intense past weekend. She considered not talking about what had gone down with Jon the day before, but thought better of it. She didn't want to make a clear line of separation between her best friend and the guy who was likely to become her boyfriend. There was only going to be tension if she so actively tried to keep those two aspects of her life apart.

So, she launched into it.

April listened intently the entire time. She nodded every now and again to make sure Jet knew she was keeping up, and didn't say a word until she had heard everything that happened the night before.

"So, he's in the spare room?"

"Yeah. Let's be real, we can't share a room without _something_ happening. That's not a good idea right now."

April nodded. "My best friend has smarticles," she teased. "He's cool with it?"

"He's cool with whatever I want. Or, at least, he says he is. I guess we'll find out."

It looked like April wanted to make a comment, likely something snide, but she controlled herself and simply smiled. "Good. The second he gets mouthy, he's gonna have me to deal with."

Despite the undertone of distrust, Jet appreciated that April had reigned herself in and managed to keep herself from saying anything snide. She looped her arm around her best friend, tugging her into a tight hug. "You can be front of the queue."

* * *

Like I said up top, the writer's block is killing me lately. I think maybe you guys should expect chapters every other week, at least until I'm over this hurdle. That seems a little more manageable to me right now.

Anyway, I know this one was the shortest chapter I've given you thus far, but I'd love to hear your thoughts anyway. Drop me a review and let me know!


	11. gotta roll with it, gotta take your time

Uploading every two weeks is definitely working out better for me. I hope you guys don't mind it. I'll try to get back to weekly updates as soon as I can. For now, enjoy!

* * *

 **Monday, April 11, 2016  
Raw  
Staples Center – Los Angeles, California**

It was odd to walk into an arena hand-in-hand with someone again, with a few dozen fans behind the barricades taking every picture they could. It was odd to not worry about how that would come across on the internet, or to people backstage. It was odd to kiss him quickly as they headed in separate directions for their respective locker rooms.

But none of that was as odd (or as mind blowing) as being in the ring with AJ Styles.

It was probably a good idea not to mention that to Jon. He didn't need to know that he ranked second to finally getting to roll around in the ring with one of her first idols. AJ didn't act like she was anything other than his equal. He didn't get weird about her being a woman, or being younger, or being an absolute fangirl at heart. He treated her just like the well-respected colleague she was. And that was just a whole other level of incredible.

"You said you hit a mean Spiral Tap, right?"

Jet leaned against the ropes, readjusting her ponytail and wiping the back of her hand across her sweaty forehead. "I did."

"Wanna show me?"

She glanced around, seeing how many people were ringside. Mostly it was just some of the crew, setting up the final touches to the stage. "Hunter might not like it."

AJ chuckled. "Your dad, huh?"

She shrugged, fully accepting of people making fun of that relationship. "He doesn't want me getting hurt again."

"I won't tell if you don't."

"Alright…"

Jet was sure Hunter would somehow know she was up to no good anyway. Like, he had a sixth sense for her getting into trouble. She wouldn't be surprised, he always seemed to be close by when a terrible idea struck her. Perhaps it was the Universe trying to put him in the position to stop said terrible ideas. AJ settled himself on his back near the turnbuckle, wiggling into a comfortable position. Jet climbed slowly, keeping her eyes on the curtain. When Hunter didn't appear, she looked down at her ring partner.

"You ready?"

"Ready," he nodded, shooting her a thumbs up and bright grin.

With one last glance up toward the ramp to ensure Hunter wasn't anywhere in eyesight, Jet launched herself off the turnbuckle into the Spiral Tap. She heard AJ grunt with the force of her body hitting him as she rolled off. He remained in place for a moment, adequately selling the move to no audience whatsoever, then flipped over onto his knees and sat back.

"Well," he tilted his head slightly, "Not as good as mine, but decent."

Jet laughed, shoving him in the shoulder. "Decent? _Decent?_ Nothing I do is 'decent'."

"I dunno, I've seen your Camel Clutch."

"Well, I can't argue that. I'm little, okay? The Camel Clutch isn't suited to me. My Koji Clutch, however, it fan-fucking-tastic."

"I'll take your word on that."

"Dang, here was me hoping I could demonstrate."

AJ chuckled, lifting his shirt to display the large red bruise on his stomach. "I think you've demonstrated enough for today."

She smiled uncomfortably. "Jeez, sorry about that. I can get a little enthusiastic."

"It's no problem. Better to be enthusiastic than jaded, right?"

"You haven't hit jaded yet?" It seemed to be something that the majority of them went through eventually. She didn't doubt that there wasn't long for her.

"I did, at the end with TNA. Then I went to Japan and got that enthusiasm back."

"And it hasn't returned now that you're here being micromanaged in every aspect of the job you've spent years perfecting?" Oh wow, maybe her jadedness was setting in already.

AJ chuckled and pulled up the middle rope for her to exit. "Are you kidding? There's _catering_ here."

She matched his laugh as they both exited the ring. "You don't have very high standards, do you?"

"You've been here since you were 22. You're used to it. I like being fed for free."

"Well, I can't argue with that." She took a long drink from her water bottle and offered it to him, smirking when he pulled a face and muttered something about germs.

They kept up a steady stream of conversation on their way to the back. AJ grabbed his own bottle from one of the tables on the way and answered any questions Jet had. He even asked some of his own, mostly about the upcoming European tour and how those worked out with WWE. She gave him a quick rundown — and promised to show him all the great spots in England — and then was just about to make a right turn away from him to the women's locker room when he called her back with a wave of his hand.

Jet did as she was asked, stepping up beside AJ while he grinned broadly at the two men who had just exited the guy's locker room. "This is Karl Anderson and Luke Gallows."

"Hi. It's nice to meet you guys," she greeted.

"Giulietta, right?" Karl asked.

"Juliette," she corrected.

"Right, right, Giulietta," he grinned. "Nice to meet you, mama. You're actually cuter than on television."

"Really? You're exactly how you seem on television," she smirked. She'd seen enough of their New Japan stuff to have a good feel for his character.

"You'll have to excuse him," Gallows shook his head. "He's an asshole."

"It's okay, Fergal warned me." The Irishman all but lost his mind with excitement when it became clear his old Bullet Club buddies were going to be joining the roster (and honestly, Jet was little offended that he didn't get nearly as excited when he saw her). "Matter of fact, he told me to keep an eye on you too, big man," she smirked, looking up at Luke Gallows' imposing figure.

"He was lying. I'm charming."

"Yep, he said that. Also said you'd have me drunk and doing something illegal within an hour if I don't keep my wits about me."

All three of the men laughed.

"Ferg exaggerates," Karl insisted.

"Ferg tells the God's honest truth," Jet countered with a grin.

"She's right," AJ nodded. "Wits, at all times. Never go out with these two. At least not without backup."

"Don't you worry about me," she assured, patting AJ on the arm. "I can hold my own."

"That absolutely sounds like an invitation," Karl insisted. "We should all go out one of these days, we can get to know each other. Honestly, I'm surprised our paths never crossed before now."

"I think you were heading out of PWG for New Japan right as I was going in."

"Yeah, probably. You shoulda come out to Japan, you'd have enjoyed it."

Jet nodded in agreement. There had been an offer, once upon a time, from JWP. It came a couple of years before she ended up signing with WWE and she couldn't imagine how different her life would be if she had taken that offer as a twenty-year-old instead. She never had the chance to find out since, unfortunately, as much as she wanted to accept the invitation that had put on the table, the timing just hadn't been right. Kurt was at the height of his paranoia and would never have let her go halfway across the world without him. She ended up calling Command Bolshoi, the JWP president, and offering up her sincerest apologies that she wouldn't be able to accept, while thanking her profusely for the opportunity. It was all done in a combination of English and broken Japanese, but she got the message across. Command Bolshoi insisted that she'd be welcome to take up the offer at a later, more convenient time, but by the time she was free of her ex's clutches, she was in Florida. It was one of the few things that niggled slightly in the back of her mind. She wouldn't change her WWE career for anything, she'd gone higher than she ever thought she would, but she would always wonder about Japan.

Instead of unloading her suddenly re-realised frustration on the two guys she'd literally just met, she smiled and shrugged casually. "And let go of my reign as Queen of the United States? I don't think so."

AJ laughed and patted her firmly on the back. "That's the attitude."

"Gotta believe you're the best to be the best, right?"

"Absolutely," Gallows agreed, nodding his head seriously.

"Well, it was lovely to meet you guys, and I will absolutely take you up on that offer of a night out, but I really need to go shower. I'm gross."

"Could our night out maybe _not_ include getting wasted?" AJ requested.

All three of them laughed. "Sure, Uncle Allen. _Sure_ ," Karl nodded sarcastically.

"Every good night out involves a little booze," Jet added.

"You three will be the death of me."

* * *

It wasn't until they all but fell into the hotel in San Diego in the early hours of Tuesday morning that Jet and Jon actually broached the topic that had been hot gossip all day. He carried her luggage to her room like a gentleman and took a seat on the bed when she offered. She reclined all the way back, still fighting the tiredness that came with the return to the road. He watched her silently for a moment, smiling to himself when he began to draw idle shapes on her open palm and she shivered.

"That tickles."

"You're ticklish in a lot of places."

"So quit tickling me, jackass."

He laughed, retracting his hand. "You get a little mean when you're tired."

"You should be used to it by now. It's never been a secret."

"True. Maybe I thought you'd be nicer to me now, since we're official and everything."

Jet snorted, rolling over onto her stomach and twisting her neck to look at him. "Your mistake. Maybe I'll actually be _worse_ now."

"Lord help me."

"Remember how we talked about romance? This isn't it."

"You want romance? I can do romance," Jon shrugged. "I'll embarrass you in front of everyone."

"Don't you dare," she warned but her voice was light and amused. "The girls have been on my case enough already. They wanted every detail."

It hadn't been anywhere near as bad as Jet was expecting. While they all wanted to know exactly what was going on, it was much more about comradery than nosiness to cast judgement. None of them said anything about it once Jet answered in the simplest terms, and she couldn't even see any sceptical looks on their faces. Becky ended up laughing and explaining that after months of being each other's shadows, it wasn't even like this was a new relationship. Jet wasn't sure if she should be relieved about that, or embarrassed at the new reminder of how badly she'd fucked up for months.

"Really?"

"Really. Have the boys not been all up in your business?"

He shook his head. "Claudio sort of casually mentioned that he saw us arrive together but no one else said anything. Did Hunter say anything to you?"

"No. We talked before my promo and he was full of grins but you know what he's like. He'll pretend that he has absolutely zero interest whatsoever, even when he's meddling. It's better just to ignore him."

Jon stretched out beside her, their noses just a few centimetres apart. "I'll ignore anyone who has anything to say. It's none of their business."

"Easy for you, you're not on social media."

"You don't have to be either. It's not a requirement."

Jet pulled a face. "It's an addiction. Can't help it. Speaking of, I need another shower before I can sleep so, if you're gonna hang around, you can make yourself useful." She tossed him her phone with the Twitter app open and pushed off the bed to head for the bathroom. "Just go through some of those notifications and press the little heart on the nice ones. Fans get real excited when they get a favourite, it'll make their day."

"Sure, even a tech idiot like me can figure that out. Or, I can come shower with you."

She hung around the doorway, smirking. "Or, you can favourite some tweets."

"Aw," he pouted but dutifully turned his attention to the app.

She didn't take long in the shower. It was her second of the night and she just wanted to clean off the grime that hovering around arenas always seemed to coat on her. It probably wouldn't be so bad if she hadn't developed that habit of sitting on the ground in dark and damp corridors. She cleaned off and washed her hair within ten minutes, stepping back out into the bedroom with a towel around her body and another being used for drying her long hair.

Jon let his eyes rove up and down for a moment before smirking to himself. He held up the phone. "Pressed some hearts."

"Great, thank you."

"A few people on here think there's something between you and Ireland."

Jet didn't even pause while towelling her hair. "Oh, I know. They've been on about that for months now. The videos and photoshops are adorable."

"Have you?"

"Have I what?"

"Ever been with him?"

She glanced at him momentarily. "Do you think we've ever been together?"

"I think that amount of raw sex appeal together would be a borderline crime."

She chuckled and shook her head. "Good answer. No, Ferg and I are purely platonic. I love him with all my heart and I can totally see how objectively handsome he is, but that's not us."

Jon seemed perfectly satisfied with that answer, returning his eyes to the stream of Twitter messages. After just a moment, his head came up again with mischievousness in his eyes. "Have you been with anyone in the business? Besides me and Punk, obviously."

Jet finally set her hair towel down, leaning against the counter as she looked at him. "Are you sure you want to know that?"

"Oh, absolutely."

She considered her answer, smiling innocently at him. "I have never had sex with anyone we work with."

Jon practically giggled as he bounced up to sit on his knees. "Ooh, that was totally evasion. _Come on_ , tell me."

"You're a schoolgirl sometimes. Yes, if you're that interested, I have had sex with _one_ other wrestler."

"Give me a name, Juliette, sheesh."

"Zack."

Jon's eyebrows shot up. _"Ryder?!"_

"No! I just told you it's not someone we work with. Zack Sabre Jr."

"Oh." He nodded, that made a lot more sense. "When?"

"Long time ago. We were kids."

"Really? How old were you?"

"Seventeen."

"Did you date?"

"No. It was a one-time thing when we were on the same card. I was in London for the weekend, he got us some cheap ass cider and we spent a night getting drunk together in a shitty bed and breakfast."

"Then you fucked," Jon added with a sly grin.

"You make it sound so seedy. It was more like then we fell into a bed together and things happened. Honestly, it wasn't even very good. I like to think that we've both probably gotten much better at it over the years."

"I don't see it."

"See what?"

"The appeal. He's a bit… weaselly-looking."

"Seventeen-year-old me wasn't such a catch either."

"I don't believe that."

She laughed. "I'll find some old photos. The proof will make you cry. And also wonder how I became such a babe within a few years."

"You _are_ a babe." He reached out, trying to grasp her hand. She stepped out of his reach, knowing he wouldn't able to resist trying to shift the towel still wrapped around her body.

"Nuh-uh. I'm getting dressed in the bathroom."

Jon groaned and dropped his chin to his chest. "You're killin' me. Like, I get this whole _slow_ thing. I'm cool with that. But, jeez, can you at least stay fully dressed if you're not gonna let me touch?"

"Control yourself, Jonathan. You're a grown man."

"Exactly."

She chuckled and disappeared into the bathroom with her pyjamas bundled under her arm. When she re-emerged, clean and fully dressed finally, Jon was on his feet.

"I should head to my own room. It's getting late and we've got a long day tomorrow. I'm leaving for Dubai as soon as Smackdown's done."

"Oh, yeah, I remember. When are you getting back?"

"Saturday. Where you headed?"

"Uh…" Jet scoured her mind for her travel itinerary. "Milan? Florence? Somewhere in Italy. Then it's off to Amsterdam."

"I'll bring you something nice back from the UAE."

"Ooh, really?"

"I told you, I can do romance."

She walked him to the door, smiling happily. "I'll look forward to it."

"I shoulda mentioned, there was a tweet from your brother."

"Which one?"

"Sebastian."

"Ah, it was undoubtedly very rude."

"A bit," he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I should block him. I have plenty of people on my blocked list already."

Jon hovered in the open doorway. "I'd like to meet them."

She stared at him blankly. "The people I've blocked on Twitter?"

"No," he scoffed. "Your family."

"Oh." She glanced over at him and tried to keep her face level. "You've met my mum."

"There's a difference between meeting your mom as someone you work with, and meeting your mom as your boyfriend."

"Of course there is. I just don't think you quite understand what meeting my _dad_ will be like."

"He can't be as bad as you make out."

She lifted her eyebrows. "Oh, you have no idea."

"I've been around you and Hunter. Can't be that different," Jon shrugged.

Jet laughed, shaking her head. "Despite what the entire locker room believes, Hunter doesn't actually cover all the Dad Bases. My actual dad has a very impressive skill; he will make you feel terrible about yourself and every choice you have ever just by looking at you."

"I'm a hard man to shake, sweetcheeks."

She rested her head against the jamb, regarding him silently for a moment. "You really have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

"I'll live."

She huffed out a breath and shrugged one shoulder. Well, if he was that intent on it… "Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you."

* * *

 **Monday, April 18, 2016  
London, England**

Her mother was thrilled when Jet called to say they'd be stopping by before they were due at the O2 Arena for Raw. She could just about make out her father's voice in the background barking out _"they? Who is_ _ **they**_ _?"_

She was trying very hard not to get herself wound up about the whole thing. It wasn't like she needed to be nervous, after all; her dad would be grumpy the whole time no matter what, so there were hardly going to be any surprises. Besides, Jon was pretty chipper about the whole thing and she didn't want to ruin his good mood. She had made a cursory attempt to talk him out of it when they met up again in Birmingham — and after he presented her with a beautiful pashmina shawl and some… _interesting_ tasting camel-milk chocolates from Dubai — but he wasn't going to be put off.

So, with firm resolve, they made their way to Tottenham in the early afternoon and waited at the door for someone to answer. Olivia was the one to pull the door open, looking put out at having to do anything during her school break. She looked at Jet and then at Jon, and rolled her eyes immediately.

"Great. Dad's gonna be a fucking delight today. I'm going to my room."

Before Jet could protest at her younger sister's language — because really, since when was she nearly an adult rather than a twelve year old who should keep those words out of her mouth? — Liv had disappeared back up the stairs.

"It kinda creeps me out that she is literally your carbon copy," Jon commented as they stepped into the house.

"Everyone always says that. I don't see it, honestly."

Jon scoffed. "She's your clone, just younger. If you aged her up, I'd believe you were born a triplet."

"I guess we're just all like that."

"Except for the little dude," Jon added, nodding his head at the family pictures on the wall. Teddy stood out like a sore thumb, all dark features amongst the sea of blond hair and blue eyes. "You sure your dad is actually his dad?"

"Everyone always says that too," Jet chuckled. "Genetics, man. They're weird."

She hovered in the hallway, waiting for her parents to appear from wherever they were, and glanced at the ceiling. "I don't like this house."

It was bigger than the home she'd grown up in in Manchester but had never felt as _right_. Maybe because they'd moved when she was already almost an adult and on her way out of the door, but she doubted it would have made much difference. She had never made her peace with London. As far as big cities went, it wasn't all that different from Manchester, but something about the aura of the place had never made her feel welcome. When she had offered to buy her parents a house, she had assumed they'd happily move back to Manchester without the burden of rent or a mortgage. Instead, the elected to stay in Tottenham and (with a huge battle) finally accept Jet paying off the rest of what they owed. She supposed they wanted to stay settled for Olivia and Teddy's benefit, but Jet would never enjoy coming back to a place that felt less like home than Orlando did.

"Good thing you don't have to live here then, huh? It's a nice enough house."

"It's a stupidly expensive house." London was never cheap but Jet's eyes had almost bulged at how much more this bog-standard house cost than her much grander Orlando home. "I didn't mind paying it at all but I'll never fathom why anyone wants to pay so much to live in this city."

"Because it's the hub of commerce?" Jon suggested.

"Sure, that, I guess."

"Juliette!" Carol Madden cut off the conversation about the merits of London, rushing in from the back garden. "Sorry, honey, I didn't hear you come in. Your father's putting up the gazebo." She patted her dirty hands on her gardening apron and quickly embraced her. "I've missed you. Jonathan, it's lovely to see you again."

Jon didn't care about the mud, taking Carol's offered hand and lifting it to his mouth for a kiss. "It's completely my pleasure, Mrs Madden."

Carol was a sucker, plain and simple. Jon was in and he knew it. Unfortunately for him, before Jet's mother could start simpering over him, Nigel was banging his work boots outside the back door to loudly announce himself. Even Carol looked a little wary about how this would go.

"Hi, Mister Madden. I'm Jon," he greeted, offering his hand.

Nigel looked down at it, across at his daughter, and then grunted and made his way into the living room. Jon let his hand drop back to his side and pulled an awkward face at his girlfriend.

She couldn't help but smirk slightly. "I warned you."

"Oh, don't listen to her," Carol tutted. "He's just a little grumpy that he didn't get given more warning about the visit, that's all."

"Yeah, that's what it is," Jet muttered under her breath. Before she could take anymore pleasure at being completely right about how this would go, Carol nudged her in the back and forced her into the living room while she went back out to finish her gardening. Jet all but stumbled into the side of her father's armchair.

He at least stood back up to hug her and press a kiss to her head. "Missed you, sweetheart."

"It's only been a few weeks. But yeah, I missed you too, Dad." Before he sat back down, she nudged him lightly in the ribs and inclined her head minutely toward Jon, still standing awkwardly half in the hallway, half in the living room.

Nigel rolled his eyes but waved his hand toward the couch. "Sit down, Jonathan." It sounded much less like a friendly offer and much more like an aggressive order.

Jon did as he was told, perching uncomfortably on the edge of the leather sofa. Jet moved to sit beside him, squeezing his knee reassuringly. As much as she found it quite hilarious that her father was this predictable, she wouldn't really let him get out of hand. Besides, that wasn't Nigel's way. He'd go down the silent treatment and pointed stares route before raising his voice.

"So, I caught the United highlights on Saturday. Little Rashford, huh?"

Nigel perked up. "Been playing blinders, that boy. Van Gaal lucked out on him when Martial got injured."

"I know Nicky Butt has lots of great things to say about him last season but I didn't expect such a great senior debut season."

"None of us did," Nigel chuckled. "Relieved we've got it, though. We need all the help we can get right now."

"Ah, it's not so bad," Jet shrugged. "We're still in the FA Cup and van Gaal's probably leaving at the end of the season. Mourinho will come in and fix things up."

"We hope."

Jon glanced out the corner of his eye at her. She caught herself, realising this wasn't a conversation he could join in with very well. While he took the time to listen (or pretend to listen) when she ranted about her stupid football team, he wasn't very knowledgeable about them or the game itself.

She went for a different route instead. "Hey, where's Ted?"

"Sulking in his room. His science teacher called and now he's grounded for the week."

"Grounded for Easter break? C'mon, that's harsh."

"Maybe he'll try harder," Nigel shrugged. Her father was very clearly not in the mood to humour anything.

"Well, I'm gonna go upstairs and say hello. I've missed him."

Jon looked almost desperately at her when she stood. It was a clear plea — _don't leave me here alone with him._ She smiled innocently and left him to it. She took the stairs three at a time, hearing the very beginnings of an awkward conversation starting just as she got to the top. She paused for a moment, listening closely to Jon trying to discuss houses. He knew Nigel had been in construction his whole life so he made up a story about potentially wanting to buy a lot of land to build from scratch. While Nigel didn't sound particularly friendly, it was enough to draw him out.

Happy enough that Jon would survive her father for a little while, she knocked on Teddy's bedroom door lightly. She heard a grunt that sounded almost identical to Nigel, and pushed it open. Her youngest sibling was lying on his back, staring surlily up at the ceiling.

"Jeez, you're not a teenager yet. It's too early for this attitude."

Teddy wasn't a kid who had much attitude. He turned his head to look at her and smiled a little, even though he was clearly feeling hard done by and very bored. Grounding in the Madden household went whole hog — no phones, no TV, not tablets, no games consoles. It was made worse by it being the school break; Teddy couldn't even pretend he needed the internet for homework. He had the choice of watching Dad's favourite war movies downstairs, or reading a book. Neither sounded particularly appealing.

"Didn't know you were here yet."

"Only been about ten minutes. Jon's downstairs with Dad. He'll probably start getting grilled soon."

Teddy didn't look his usual excited self at the prospect of hanging out with a wrestler. "Okay."

Jet sighed and stepped over the clothes on the floor to nudge him across the bed. She took a seat in the cleared space. He sat up too, letting Jet nudge him in the shoulder. "Cheer up. How's school?"

He shrugged. He'd started high school the previous September and, while it had clearly helped him come out of his shell a little, it had obviously highlighted the areas he was struggling in that primary school hadn't. "It's okay."

"Dad said your science teacher called."

He groaned loudly. "Science just isn't my _thing_ , okay? I can't help it, I'm not bad at it on purpose. Grounding me doesn't make me any better at chemistry!"

She laughed and ruffled his hair. "Hey, don't sweat it. They got calls from _all_ my teachers back in the day. Well, besides Mister Bryce but that was because PE was the only thing I even remotely cared about. You do you, kiddo. I mean, do your best. Mum would kill me if I didn't say that. Try your hardest and that's all anybody can ask. Guaranteed, Dad will end your grounding tomorrow morning. Y'know, none of us ever ended up grounded for longer than twenty-four hours. He can't commit to it. Or the whining."

"I'm so _bored_."

Jet chuckled, getting up from the bed and leaving the room to make her way to the linen cupboard. As she expected, on the top shelf, buried between bedsheets, Teddy's PS4 was stashed away. She stood on her tiptoes and pulled it down. His face lit up when he saw it.

"I was thinking about getting a chair to get it down, but Dad would have heard."

"Oh, he definitely would have," Jet nodded. "This way, I'll take the blame. But, before you launch into whatever you're playing—"

"Lego Avengers."

"Before you launch into Lego Avengers, we're finishing our chat. I've missed you, kid, you're not spending my whole visit on the PlayStation." She left it on his desk and retook her place on the bed. "I really do wanna know how school's going. Not just your science class."

"It's okay," he repeated. There was a long pause before he said, "Some of the guys in my form group watch wrestling."

That felt much more like the prelude to a statement than a statement itself. "Uh-huh?"

"They talk about you sometimes."

Teddy didn't sound pleased about it. Considering the very public nature of her personal life recently, Jet wasn't surprised that it perhaps wasn't the kind of talk that her little brother would like to hear. "People talk about me all the time," she shrugged, trying to play it off coolly. "That's the nature of the job."

"They say all kinds of shit. I don't like it."

"Language," she tutted because, hell, she could still reprimand him for it. But she appreciated that, even though he was getting older and becoming very much a pre-teen boy, he was still the little kid who was very protective of his family. "It doesn't matter what they're saying. You know most of the stuff isn't even true."

"What about the stuff that is?"

"Like what?"

"Like… like, you and Phil and Jon."

"That stuff is just stuff that happens. They can talk all the shit they want about it. The kids in your form don't know any of the stuff that happened and they don't know why choices were made the way they were."

"Neither do I," Teddy muttered. "No one ever tells me anything. Mum just said that you and Phil were getting a divorce and now you're with Jon, and that's it. I know I'm the youngest but I'm not a baby."

She was probably guilty of thinking that sometimes. He had been a pre-schooler when she left home and it was easy to forget that he was much older now when she'd missed a lot of those years. They tended to keep him out of the loop in the hopes of protecting him from the harsher realities of the world, but maybe it was time Jet accepted that he was old enough to decide if he wanted to be a part of his family's drama. Or, more accurately, _her_ drama.

"You wanna know, huh? Alright…" She took a deep breath, considering the most age-appropriate way to explain. "You know how Phil and I are, that's never been a secret."

"Crazy," Teddy mumbled under his breath.

Jet shoved him, forcing him face first into the bedcover. "Rude."

"Sorry, sorry. Carry on."

"Well, I suppose it was just different when I was with Jon. We worked together closely and he's very much the antithesis of Phil. He's calm. And, just being around him for so long, especially when I didn't have many other people at work to talk to, I just… I guess I just fell for him."

"And fell out of love with Phil?"

Jet shook her head softly. "I don't think you can ever just fall out of love with someone like him. But after I got hurt, I had a lot of time to think everything through. There was a reason that I felt drawn to Jon and I think I owe it to everyone involved to see where that goes. You understand?"

"Yeah, I s'pose. If you don't try, you won't know. If you don't know, you'll always wonder."

"Exactly. I could have stayed with Phil and been perfectly happy. Sure, there are a bunch of things we'd have to work on, but I know we could. But he doesn't deserve to have a wife who would be wondering."

"So, what happens if you and Jon don't work out?" Teddy questioned.

Jet shrugged. "Then we don't work out," she replied simply.

"Would you go back to Phil? Would he take you back?"

She chuckled and wrapped her arm around his neck, tugging him in so she could ruffle his hair. "I don't know what's gonna happen in the future, bud. I can only tell you what's happening right now. I'm happy, I'm working stuff out, and Jon's good to me."

"I guess that's all that matters, really," Teddy nodded sagely. "But I still like Phil. Is that okay?"

"Of course that's okay. You can like whoever you want to like, Ted. Hell, you don't have to like Jon, if that's what you're worried about. Dad sure as hell doesn't."

"I like Jon," he insisted. "He's cool."

"Okay, good. You wanna come down and say hi? We can't stay long, we have to be at work soon."

"Can I come?" he asked eagerly.

"You're grounded," she reminded him. "But, since Dad will cave by tomorrow, I'll take you to Smackdown, if you like."

Teddy was placated by that offer, nodding his head. "Okay, deal."

Jet kept her arm around him as they headed downstairs — completely bypassing Olivia's room where music was being played loudly enough to bother the neighbours — and found Jon and Nigel sat in an awkward silence again. Well, awkward in Jon's case. It was just a very pointed silence from Nigel. Jon scrambled to the bottom of the staircase when he spotted the two of them, desperate to get a reprieve from her father.

"Thank Christ," he mumbled, wrapping an arm around Jet's waist and tugging her into his side. He noticed the youngster staring up at him. "Hey, bud," he greeted.

Teddy regarded him for a long moment. Then, when Jon was starting to wonder if he should say something else, Teddy nodded firmly. "Okay."

He strolled off, completely carefree, before Jon could figure that out. "Okay?" he asked Jet. "Okay, what?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? Really?"

"Really. Me and Ted had a little chat, that's all."

"About me?"

"About a few things."

He let that lie. "I was ready to come find you. Your dad is terrifying."

Jet smiled as her mother came in from the garden and joined Teddy and Nigel in the living room. She nudged her boyfriend back toward the dragon's den with amusement sparkling in her eyes as he groaned. "I warned you."

* * *

Next chapter: Jon does something stupid and Phil is back.

While I'm working on that, drop me a review and let me know what you think of this chapter! :)


	12. when it rains, it pours

My writer's block is slowly, but surely, starting to go away. Hopefully we'll be back to weekly updates soon enough. For now, enjoy!

* * *

 **Sunday, May 1, 2016  
Payback  
Allstate Arena – Chicago, Illinois**

"Hey!" Sami caught Jet's elbow as she turned a corner in the arena and almost collided with him. "We still on for the Wednesday after next?"

She stared up at him in confusion. She had been hurrying to find Hunter before the show started so she could corner him about a spot in her title match with Charlotte. Her brain had been singularly focused on that so she had absolutely no idea what Sami was talking about. "Next Wednesday?"

"Yeah. Civil War?"

"Oh!" The two of them had made plans months ago to catch the third Captain America movie together. She'd pretty much forgotten that it was already upon them. "Yeah, absolutely! Pumped for it."

"Great. Was thinking that we could have a little marathon this week, go through the rest of them."

"Sounds awesome. Skip The Incredible Hulk?"

"Skip The Incredible Hulk," he agreed solemnly.

"And both agree not to even acknowledge what they did to Natasha in Age of Ultron?"

"Absolutely."

"Awesome. Uh, while I'm here, have you seen Jon?"

Sami's eyebrows lifted a little as he shook his head. "Nope. Is he here?"

"He's supposed to be. His flight was getting in before mine."

"I haven't seen him. His stuff isn't in the locker room."

She hummed to acknowledge that she heard him and shrugged her shoulders. "Probably got delayed. Listen, I've gotta go find Hunter but you can totally book tickets if you want. I am _all about_ some Chris Evans with my Wednesday."

"You're a taken women, you shouldn't be 'all about' any other dude," Sami teased.

"Okay, just so you all know, if Chris Evans came calling, every guy I've ever even looked at would be kicked to the curb faster than the speed of light. I am not ashamed of that."

Sami matched her shrug from a moment ago. "I guess I can't even blame you."

She winked, walking backward from him. "See, you get it. Book those tickets, Zayn, and we can both spend an afternoon swooning over Mister Evans."

"I do not _swoon_ over guys!" he yelled, just as she turned the corner. He could hear her laughter even when he couldn't see her.

She found Hunter eventually, cornering him long enough to get the green light on the plan. He beat around it without saying yes for a while, not wanting to be the one who'd have to take the blame should it end horribly, but, _finally_ , she drew the word from him and almost insisted he hand her a signed permission slip as proof. She was trying to be a model employee, after all, and model employees didn't want to be pulled up by the office for dangerous manoeuvres. She held off on demanding the note, knowing Hunter would go to bat for her should anyone else (cough, Kevin Dunn) decide to take issue with the match.

Once she was done with Hunter, she began to make her way back to the locker room to deliver the news to Charlotte. Thankfully, the other woman trusted her pretty implicitly where ringwork was concerned, so they'd only need a short amount of time in the ring before the show to run through the most important bits. Just as she saw someone rolling a huge crate through the corridor, she felt an arm wrap around her waist, pulling her back and out of the way.

Karl was grinned brightly at her. "Just the lady we were looking for. Which bar tonight, mama?"

"Tonight? I'm not sure if I'm coming out tonight, guys. First televised match back, and I'm going full throttle. Might be too tired."

"Aw, come on! First five rounds are on us," Gallows wheedled.

" _First_ five? You're planning more than five rounds tonight? When we all need to be in St. Louis tomorrow?"

"You weren't saying that in Malaga," Karl laughed.

Jet smirked. Malaga had been… an event. Besides just being thrilled that she was finally on the Spain show and that being clear in the stellar match she put on with Charlotte that night, it had also been the very first time she went out with the Club. Fergal hadn't been kidding about them going for it, but Jet held her own perfectly fine. AJ tapped out within an hour, knowing he was there purely for babysitting purposes. With Uncle Allen out of the way, the three of them went heavy. They quickly learned that Spaniards know how to party, and that the night never ends there. It was past four in the morning when she finally called Sami, clearly waking him up, and slurred through a request for him to come get her. Being the brilliant friend that he was, he found his way through the unfamiliar Malaga streets to take her back to the hotel. He did make it known when she woke up that he didn't appreciate the wake-up call. He tried to keep his stern expression up during the flight back to the States, but when she pleaded horrible hangover and apologised profusely, he caved and fished her out some more painkillers and another blanket from somewhere.

"We didn't have a show the day after Malaga," she reminded them both. "Tell you what, how about after Smackdown? My flight home isn't until late morning on Wednesday."

"Deal," Karl grinned.

He let her go so she could continue on her never ending list of things to do that afternoon. She had a VIP meet and greet to take part in later, and she had to fit in hair and make-up sometime. She could now add 'locate AWOL boyfriend' to the list too. It was a good thing she'd finally re-adjusted to the long work week, or she'd be a frazzled ball of exhaustion by that point in the day.

Charlotte was ready and waiting patiently at the ring when Jet got there. She glanced up from her phone, smiling brightly. "Hey."

"Hi. Sorry I'm late, had to track Hunter down and then I got waylaid by Anderson."

"No problem. How'd it go with the boss? He say okay?"

"Yup, he sure did. After a little pestering. And some whining. And making some actual physical poking. But I got the yes. Are you still sure about it?"

"Of course I'm sure," she scoffed. "Come on, hit me with your best shot, Madden."

They worked through their big spots for the match in short order, preferring to call the rest of it on the fly to give it that more organic feel. It was going to be the first time that the two of them wrestled each other on television and they were sure as hell not going to let it look manufactured. Besides the things they had to try out for the sake of safety — and the sake of Jet's conscience; she didn't want to spring big moves on an unsuspecting woman — everything would just go with the flow. Both of them could work a crowd.

"We gotta get fancy."

"Well, we don't _gotta_ ," Charlotte smirked teasingly. "You _want_ to get fancy."

"Excuse me for wanting my big TV return to look good," Jet grinned. "C'mon, we've got fifteen minutes to work with."

"Hey, you don't need to convince me. I'm down with whatever."

"Double moonsault?"

"I am _not_ Ricochet," Charlotte replied, lifting her eyebrows.

"Okay, no double moonsault. Hm… I haven't hit a Sasuke Special in a long time."

Charlotte almost rolled her eyes. "If you're trying to kill me, that's probably the way to go."

"Of course not," Jet smiled innocently. "I'm trying to make it _look_ like I'm trying to kill you."

With a dramatic sigh, Charlotte exited the ring and held her arms open. "Go on then. If you don't kill me on this one, I'm game to do it tonight."

With a triumphant, and only slightly devious grin, Jet moved back to the far side of the ring, giving herself enough space for a good run-up. She cartwheeled and hit the moonsault over the ropes effortlessly. Charlotte caught her weight perfectly. Then, as she landed upright on her feet, she hissed at the sharp shock of pain in her right foot.

Charlotte lifted her head from where she'd landed, eyes knit in concern. "What happened?"

"Nothing, just landed flat footed, that's all." She shook out her ankle and felt the pain mostly subside. "That was cool, though. We'll have to break that out tonight."

"Did you specifically mention that to Hunter?"

"…No. But," she continued quickly, "I asked him if big moves were okay and he said yes, so this is included."

"By that reasoning, a piledriver is included."

"Well, maybe it is," Jet shrugged with a smirk.

Charlotte pointed a very firm finger at her. "Don't even _think_ about it."

* * *

It was only three hours before the show when Jon got in. Jet spotted him making his way toward the locker room on her way back from eating with Sami. He seemed to be a little bent over, hobbling like she did when she took a rough hit to the old hip injury. That in itself was suspicious enough but then he tried to scoot through and pretend he hadn't seen her. She moved to stand directly in his path, crossing her arms over her chest.

She saw him wince before lifting his head and smiling brightly, clearly attempting to charm her out of questions. "Hey, babe. You look great."

"And you, Jonathan, look like a man in trouble. Where have you been? Your flight was supposed to get in hours ago."

"Uh, yeah, it did."

Jet lifted an eyebrow. It wasn't like him to be deliberately obtuse. "Right…?" He wouldn't even look her in the eye. Whatever he'd been doing that day, he didn't want to admit. But, really, what shenanigans could he actually get up to in Chicago? Oh… It dawned on her and her eyes widened slowly. "You didn't. Please tell me you didn't."

The uncomfortable and tight smile was enough of an answer. "If it makes any difference, I got punched in the gut for my trouble."

"Jesus, Jon!" she hissed, trying to keep her voice down so the myriad of people in the corridor wouldn't hear. "What the hell did you expect?! I am trying _so hard_ to not let my relationship with him get bitter! If I want him to sign those damn papers before next summer, we have to be on good terms!"

Jon had the sense to look appropriately shamed. "I know, I know. I just thought… I thought maybe he'd agree if we talked, man-to-man."

"Right, because you're top of his list of people to talk to. Of all the people on this Earth, _you're_ the guy who's going to talk sense it him, right?"

"I get it, it wasn't a good idea."

"No, it wasn't. And now I have to fix it." That was exactly what she needed, another headache.

"You don't have to fix anything. I barely got two words out to the guy."

"If he thinks I sent you—"

"I doubt it."

"Then he'll be a whole new level of pissed," Jet continued as if she hadn't been interrupted. She almost rubbed at her face before remembering her make-up. She settled for wringing her wrists instead.

"Right, because that makes a difference with how he's acted this whole time," Jon rolled his eyes.

"He's been trying," she argued. "He's been polite, he's apologised."

"Because he knows you're a sucker for it."

"Sucker or not, the ball is in his court and you've gone and pissed him off."

"He hates me anyway, not like he could hate me any more," Jon shrugged.

"Look, I know this whole blasé, nothing bothers me attitude is your thing, but it's super annoying when it's actually something that matters to me." She began to leave, trying to focus on the meet and greet she was about to do rather than the mess she was going to have to deal with.

"Hey," Jon reached out to catch her elbow, pulling her to a halt. "I know it matters to you. I'm sorry."

"So, act like it." She shook her arm out of his grip and sighed heavily as she walked away.

* * *

Jet almost kicked out at the wall before thinking better of it. For all their planning earlier, her match with Charlotte hadn't gone off quite how the two of them hoped. It was incredibly well received by the crowd — especially Jet's first televised Dragonrana in over five years — but, on one spot where she was to land out a Jetstream after Charlotte moved, she felt that surge of pain in her foot again. She had to hold onto the rope to steady herself but it wouldn't shake away this time. They finished out the match just as it was supposed to go (a screwy finish with Charlotte using the ropes to pin her) but everything was just that little bit sloppier thanks to having a foot that she couldn't put much weight on without feeling a sharp shock. It wasn't how she hoped her televised return would go.

She hobbled to the back once they were done and immediately let her frustration show on her face. Hunter barely managed to get a word of congratulations in or ask about her injury before she was furiously semi-limping down to the trainer's office. It took longer than she would have liked and too much poking at her foot before she got a diagnosis of what was likely a stress fracture. It wasn't much of a surprise; she'd had a few before and she had been going pretty hard on her feet over the last few weeks. The doctor tried to convince her to go for an X-ray but she didn't have time for that. Besides, what difference would it make? She instructed him to wrap it tightly all the way up to her ankle with the promise that she'd ice it later.

When she emerged from the office with her mind on one task, she almost ran into Jon hovering outside the door.

"You okay?" he asked, his brow furrowed in worry.

"I'll be fine."

He sighed at her sharp tone. "Look, I really am sorry. C'mon, let me help you back to the locker room. I'll do the drive to St. Louis."

"I've got something to deal with tonight."

It didn't take a genius to figure out what that was. She had to undo his mess. "I'll wait at the hotel."

"Just go to St. Louis."

"No. You can't drive with a fucked up foot."

"Jon—"

"I'll wait at the hotel," he repeated firmly. There was no two ways about it. It wasn't safe for her to be hurting herself to drive three hundred miles, so, no matter how pissed she was at him — and he knew he deserved it — he was going to wait. "Come on, this is me showing you I'm sorry."

She huffed but didn't argue any further. "Fine, do whatever you want. I'll be back as soon as I can."

She didn't bother delivering the injury diagnosis to Hunter or saying goodbye to anyone. She trusted that Jon would get her bags from the locker room before he hitched a ride with whoever back to the hotel. She tapped her fingers anxiously on the steering wheel as she waited at a red light, so close to the place that used to be home. She hadn't set foot in Chicago since that debacle of a divorce hearing and she regretted it. She regretted not seeing her dogs, she regretted not taking up Phil's offer of talking, and she regretted missing out on a city that felt so like her place. It was the feeling she got from Orlando, the feeling of belonging.

She parked outside the house and waited, making sure she was calm and collected. Going in as anything else would only further antagonise the situation. Not to mention, she needed a moment to rest her foot. The throbbing had really kicked in while she was pushing down on the accelerator. She glanced through the windscreen up to the lights in the tall living room window. She'd considered coming here when she realised Payback would be held in the city. She had hoped it wouldn't be under these sort of awkward circumstances.

With a sigh, she stepped out onto the pavement and made her way around to the back and up the stairs. Her foot didn't thank her for it, and she ended up standing on one leg once she'd knocked.

Phil dropped his head in resignation as soon as he pulled open the door. "Well, I thought I'd get a sternly worded text message. Didn't expect you to actually come here."

"Can I come in?"

He stepped aside to make enough space for her. "Sure. Just… could you warn me before you start yelling? I've got a headache, I'd like to prep myself."

"I'm not going to yell."

"No? I thought that was the least I was in for. Kinda expected a slap, to be honest."

Jet closed the door and leaned back against it, still keeping her foot off the ground, and looked him up and down. "I came to apologise."

Phil's eyes almost bulged out of his head as he dropped down on the couch. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that? _You're_ here to apologise? For what?"

"For Jon. He shouldn't have come here. I mean, you absolutely cannot lay hands on him, but he should never have even thought about doing what he did. I'm sorry."

"I punch your boyfriend and I get the apology. Seriously, is this the Twilight Zone?"

"It wasn't his place to get involved."

"No, it wasn't."

"It wasn't your place to hit him."

Punk fought down his smirk and nodded dutifully. "No, it wasn't," he repeated. "I'm sorry."

"No, you're not."

"No, I'm not. I did consider setting Bonnie on him, so he got off light with just getting whacked in the stomach."

Jet scoffed. "Bonnie is an old lady who barely moves out of bed, you couldn't set her on anyone." She glanced around the living room, obviously disappointed when she couldn't see either of the dogs. "Where are they?"

"Napping upstairs. They took over my bed. I can call them down, if you want?"

She shook her head. It wasn't fair to wake them, especially since they'd be excited to see her and she couldn't stay long. She missed them desperately but it would be selfish to get them wound up and then leave.

"Probably a good thing," Phil shrugged. "You'd definitely notice the cheese smell on Pudge's breath."

"You've gotta stop feeding him up on cheese. He's gonna get fat."

"Probably," he smiled. He gave her an up and down of his own, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Have you gotten shorter?"

Jet scoffed.

"No, I'm serious. You look shorter."

She adjusted her stance, standing straight up to her full height and regretting it as soon as pain flared through her foot again. "See?"

"Just come sit down, would ya? It's weird you just standing over there like that."

She did want to sit. She was tired but didn't see a nap in her immediate future. She pushed her hands off the door to make a move to the couch, but couldn't hide the slight wince when movement made the pain worse.

"What?"

"Nothing," she shook her head.

"Liar. What's wrong with your foot?"

She took a seat beside him and toed off her shoes. She lifted her right foot up to rest her heel on the couch and displayed her tightly wrapped foot. "Doc thinks it's a stress fracture," she admitted.

"Who wrapped this? They couldn't spring for a brace for you?"

"No point in the brace, I'll just keep it wrapped and hope for the best."

Phil was already unwrapping her foot when he spoke. "Hope for the best? You're not still working on this?"

"Of course I am. I came back a month ago, I'm not being shelved again. It's just a little break, it'll heal."

He lifted her leg from his lap and got up from the couch. Jet briefly wondered if he was honestly that frustrated by her doing what they all did, working with a fairly minor injury, until he made his way to the freezer and came back with a bag of peas wrapped in a dish towel.

"Twenty minutes per hour, you know that."

"I'm a little busy."

"Twenty minutes per hour," he repeated. "You need your feet, Juliette. Take care of yourself."

"Come on, it's one itty bitty bone. Hunter will give me shorter matches for a couple of weeks and I'll heal up on my days off."

"Six weeks."

"Excuse me?"

"Six weeks until that foot feels okay again. Minimum. Longer for you because you're too pig-headed to let it heal."

She laughed. "Ouch. I mean, not wrong, but still, _ouch_."

He tutted at her refusal to be serious about it. He appreciated that she was living life without getting so wound up but sometimes she _needed_ to recognise the importance of taking care of her health. He didn't want her ending up like him — battered, bruised, and in constant pain. It had taken him so long to feel okay once he was out of the ring.

"Really, you can lecture me about my stupid foot all you want, but can you at least do it without smashing the peas down? It kinda hurts."

Phil glanced down, not realising he'd been pushing the makeshift icebag into her foot in his frustration. He removed his hand immediately. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Like I said, just an itty bitty bone."

"Bones are supposed to be in one piece."

"Sure."

"Bones that _aren't_ in one piece are supposed to be rested," he added sternly.

"I've had enough rest. Besides, mama gotta make that money."

"Mama?" Phil repeated with a half-smirk and a curved eyebrow.

"Karl Anderson is rubbing off on me."

Phil's eyebrow rose higher and he couldn't fight off the smirk any longer. "Oh, is he?"

Jet groaned, annoyed at herself for not catching the innuendo. She didn't want to be discussing anything remotely in that ballpark with him. "Stop."

"Oh, c'mon, I'm just joking. Let's not pretend I don't know what you're getting up to."

"I'm not—" She clamped her mouth shut. _Not discussing this_. Her sex life (or lack thereof) was the last thing that should be on their list of topics.

"No? Makes two of us."

It hadn't crossed Jet's mind that he might have been seeing someone. She had assumed that if it was happening she'd have heard about it, either from the internet or AJ. She hadn't expected to feel so relieved from his admission of celibacy.

"This isn't something we should be talking about."

"No? What should we be talking about?"

"Nothing. I just came to apologise."

"Well, you have to rest up for a bit. Might as well talk about something." He lifted the bag to check on the swelling and tutted, placing it back down. "I thought you looked strange when you landed on that corkscrew. That's when you noticed the foot, huh?"

Jet lifted her eyebrows. He had spent those months she was recovering sending her texts expressing his surprise at each PPV that she hadn't yet returned, but she had always assumed his knowledge was coming from the internet. She hadn't really believed that he was actually watching the product.

Phil knew what her surprised face was about. "I watch your stuff. Easy enough to tell on the card when it'll be on."

"Oh. That's nice."

"But… the Dragonrana? Really?"

"Don't fuss, it'll be strictly a big match move."

"It's dangerous."

"Dangerous brings in the viewers."

"You don't have to hurt yourself for money. I don't know how they're paying you these days, but I'd never let you be without. You can have half, I don't care."

"I don't want half."

They'd been through this a million times. Her lawyer had informed her that all the money in their joint account counted a marital property, no matter that Phil acquired most of it prior to their marriage. Mr Kulerski had pushed her to ask for half the funds in her divorce petition and she refused outright. She had enough of her own money and she'd never feel right with herself for taking any of his. He'd earned that with his own blood, sweat and tears.

"What am I gonna do with it? Half's the least you deserve for putting up with me."

"God, don't do that," she groaned loudly. "I never _put up_ with you."

"Come on, I was at least part of the problem in our marriage."

Jet sighed, staring down at her lap. It was so odd to be there, conversing with him like old friends and then remembering suddenly the true weight that hung over them. She looked back up at him, taking in all his features. He looked well, despite the ridiculously overgrown beard, but there was weariness in his eyes. Everything had to be eating away at him too, just as badly as it was her. Even so, it was infinitely better to be on this kind of footing with him, awkward perhaps but much kinder. Neither of them taking potshots, even if they could. This was what she'd wanted all along, just a good relationship with him.

"We were both problems," she countered. "We're both raging basket cases."

Phil chuckled, rubbing his hand lightly back and forth across her ankle. "Yeah, that's the truth. I'm working on it."

"Me too."

An awkward silence followed, during which Jet turned to watch a little of whatever channel he had left the TV on, and then back to him. He was watching her the entire time, his top lip pulled in between his teeth. She wondered how he didn't get all that facial hair in his mouth but kept herself from asking. She did have a slight chuckle at it, though. It was spectacularly ridiculous looking.

"What?"

"Nothing," she smiled. "Uh, while I'm here, thank you for the birthday gifts. They were lovely."

"You're welcome. I actually considered not sending the CD when I noticed the crest on it. Thought you might burn it out of instinct or something."

"You know Man City's crest?"

Phil chuckled. "Just because I pretended not to listen when you talked about soccer doesn't mean I actually wasn't. I even know a few names here and there. David de Gea, right?"

Jet laughed at how much he butchered the pronunciation. "Something like that. I'm sorry to break it to you, but I really wasn't listening when you talked about baseball. Still don't know the rules."

"Tell you what, how about when the Cubs make it to the Series, you find a day off and I'll teach you all about it at Wrigley Field."

"When the Cubs make the Series," she snorted. " _Sure_."

"Hey, it'll happen! This is the year!"

"I thought last year was the year?" He had been quite adamant that Back to the Future had it right.

"I was a little off. I'm telling ya, this is the year."

"Alright, sure. _If_ the Cubs somehow actually make it, I'll find time for a game."

"Good." He lifted the pack of peas again, frowning at the bruising coming through in the swelling. "Let me switch this out." He made his way back into the kitchen, tossing the peas back into the freezer and grabbing a bag of frozen broccoli.

She watched him walk, knowing that she should have left already. She was here to apologise for what Jon had done and, now that it was clear he didn't blame her and wouldn't be holding it as a grudge, she should have walked out and driven right back to the hotel. She did have to make it to St. Louis, after all. Instead, she stayed in her spot on the couch, letting him place the much bumpier bag of vegetables across her instep. It had set her so at ease to be talking so easily and she didn't want to waste the opportunity. She didn't know when she'd get another chance to be in Chicago, or when one of them would get pissed off again and lead to three months of radio silence.

"How's it feeling?"

"Cold."

"Funny."

Jet smirked. "It's fine. I told you it'd be fine."

"Yeah, and we both know you're lying. It's gonna ache like a bitch for weeks. It'll end up deformed if you don't take care of it. You wanna be thirty and unable to walk?"

She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out to mock his rabbiting. "Shouldn't I be the one worried about you? I heard you've got a fight."

"Yeah," he nodded. "Young kid, Mickey Gall. We're looking at 203 in September."

"Good for you. Feeling ready for it?"

"Yeah."

"That's it? _Yeah_?"

"Didn't think you'd want to hear the details," he shrugged, rubbing his hand over where his chin must have been beneath the beard. "You were never happy that I decided to do this."

"Bit late for that, isn't it?" she chuckled. "Is he good?"

"He's only had a couple of pro fights but, yeah, he was impressive."

"Is he going to beat you?"

Phil smirked. "You ever think I'm gonna say yes to that?"

She admired his self-belief, if nothing else. "How's the back?"

"Great. Didn't realise how bad it felt until it felt good again."

"I'm sorry. Still. About not being here when you had surgery, I mean. I felt terrible that you were on your own."

"It was my own fault. The surgery and you staying away. I should have paid more attention to my body and I shouldn't have been such an asshole to you at the hearing."

"You apologised for that," she shrugged off. She didn't want to re-hash what had happened in February. It was the past and wouldn't serve any purpose.

"No, I apologised over text and that really doesn't count." He straightened his spine a little and looked her dead in the eye. "I'm sorry," he spoke clearly and firmly. "I was a giant dick and massively out of line. I know it really doesn't excuse anything but I was in a pretty shitty place. You were doing so great and my fight had just been put back again because of my back, and I… I dunno, I guess I just felt like I was drifting. And I took it out on you. And Devitt. I'm sorry."

"I know and you're forgiven. Though, Fergal might not be so willing. He was pretty angry that you besmirched his character."

"Tell him I'm sorry, too. Really."

"I will. He'll understand. We all have those days that just get on top of us, right? Today was one of mine. I freaked out on Jon, even when he was just trying to be helpful."

"You shouldn't be too hard on him. Don't get me wrong, if he ever shows up here again I'll knock his teeth down his throat," Phil warned, "but he's trying his best where you're concerned, I'm sure."

"He is."

"I mean, you're a firecracker. It's hard to figure you out sometimes and know what the right thing to do is."

"Am I that difficult?" Jet knew she had her moments when she could be impossible but she hadn't realised that it was a continuing effort to find the right spot with her.

"I didn't say difficult."

"Was kind of implied."

"Difficulty implies hardship. That's not what it is at all. It's… an adventure."

"Smooth save," she smirked.

"Besides, it doesn't matter if I mean difficult. It doesn't matter who messes up. All that matters is if he makes you happy." Phil looked up into her eyes. "Does he?"

She nodded softly. "He does." He made every day she spent with him happy, just with his easy smile and cheesy jokes.

Phil's smile was tight no matter how much he tried to make it look sincere, and the corners of his eyes were pinched. "Good. That's what you deserve."

"So do you. I want you to be happy."

"I am." It didn't sound true to either of them. "If you're happy, I'm happy. That's all I want."

She reached out for him in an effort to be comforting but, just before she could squeeze his hand, he stood up and forced a bright smile. "You should probably head out, right? Everyone will be wondering where you are. Besides, you can probably get away with driving on that foot now, while it's close to numb."

He needed to get her out of there, needed her gone before he gave in to that familiar feeling in his chest. He didn't want to risk losing his temper as a cover again. It had been so nice to have her there and be able to just _talk_ like regular human beings, he didn't want to ruin it again. Thankfully, she understood. She dropped her hand and offered him another smile. It wasn't wide and beaming but it was friendly. That was all either of them could really ask for.

"Yeah, you're right," she agreed. He removed the wrapped bag of broccoli and helped her to her feet. She tested out her foot for a moment and found that it was a little easier to walk on. "I better head off. This has been nice, though."

"Yeah, it has."

"I'll keep an eye on the baseball. Don't get your hopes up, though, buddy."

"This is the year, Juliette."

"Uh-huh," she nodded, leaning against the doorframe. "We're in Rockford at the end of the month for Smackdown. Maybe we could hang out again? Hopefully when the lumps upstairs are awake."

Phil nodded. Hopefully a few weeks would be enough time to recover from this little impromptu hang-out. He didn't want her out of his life and he'd take what he could get, even if it hurt afterward. "That sounds great."

"Good. Well, I really had better be off now." She reached up to hug him. They both practically melted into it. She was the first to break away, shooting him another smile. "Catch ya later, Phil."

"You sure will," he agreed. "Be happy." He didn't close the door until she'd descended the steps and completely disappeared from view. Even then, he moved over to the large window overlooking the street and made sure she got safely in the car. Before the rental's door closed, she waved up at him.

The drive back to the hotel gave her just enough time to figure out what to say to Jon. After all, Phil was right. She shouldn't have taken her frustrations out on Jon, no matter what he'd done. He had found himself in a very strange situation and was doing his best to navigate it. He'd undoubtedly learned his lesson and she should just put it behind them.

Her foot was throbbing a little again by the time she was making her way through the lobby and she was _so ready_ for her day to be over. She knew his room number and made her way there first, bypassing her own room entirely. She knocked and waited, lifting her leg again. He didn't take long to answer, looking almost as tired as she felt. She walked straight at him. He opened his arms reflexively and wrapped her up, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled into his chest.

"I think I should be the one saying that. I shouldn't have gone there."

"No, you shouldn't," she agreed, "But I understand why you did. You were trying to help. I'm sorry I freaked out so bad."

"I deserved it. Did you, uh, smooth things over with him?"

Jet nodded. "Everything's fine."

"You were there a long time."

"Had to ice my foot. The fucker started to swell. Besides, we had a good talk. Things feel good with him for once, I think we're finally on friendly terms."

"Good, I'm happy for you."

"Are you?"

He looked down at her, frowning. "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because he's my ex? I just don't want this to be something that you feel weird about but keep to yourself."

"I won't," Jon promised. "If I feel like it's getting weird, I'll tell you."

"Good." She pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat and leaned all her body weight against him. "Can we just stay here tonight? Drive to St. Louis in the morning?"

He led her backward, letting her fall lightly on the bed, and smiled. "Sure."

* * *

Progress! With both of them! Yay!

So, I'd love to hear your feedback. Drop me a review and let me know what you thought! :)


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